"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. And He did despair, for in His omniscience, He did know that His creations had but three-fifths of the splendor of that which would be IMAO."
-No One of Consequence

There is a lot in the world that is spooky, so here's a quick guide to all the spooky things out there. For simplicity, I marked creatures that, if they bite you, you become one with a "(B)".

* DEMON: Powerful evil entity closely related to the devil. Not easily defeated by mortal man, but you might as well try some buckshot if you encounter one. If that doesn't work, kick it in the shins. If that doesn't work, then I'm outta ideas.

* DEVIL: Fallen angles; minions of Satan. They'll try to get you to do evil stuff, so don't listen to them. Or ask for cash payment up front.

* GHOSTS: Ghosts are the souls of the departed trapped in this world. In their despair and anger, they will lash out against humans, sometimes even throwing objects as poltergeists. Since they are not corporeal, no medication works on them. Ways of handling ghosts are blasting them with a beam from a proton pack or, lacking that, sucking them up in a vacuum. You can also have a priest come over and exorcise the spirits, but he'll probably want dinner.

* GHOUL: A ghoul is kinda like a ghost but... well... I'm not sure what a ghoul is. If you think something is a ghoul, don't touch it.

* HARPY: Female woman with bird features. May claw or nag you to death. Try buying it flowers.

* HILLARY CLINTON: May be a witch, a harpy, a devil, or lesser demon that (somewhat) conceals its horrible visage. Best way to defeat one is not to vote for her.

* VAMPIRE: The ultimate undead. Will try to drink your blood (may have you fill out a form about whether you've ever been to the UK or Africa first). Can be stunned with holy water or sharp kick to the groin. Can be killed by sunlight, so the best way to defeat one is to screw with its alarm clock. (B)

* WEREWOLF: Half man, half wolf. Only dangerous when there is a full moon. Can be killed with a silver bullet. Gold and platinum bullets also work, but the cost of slugs is completely impractical. (B)

* WITCH: Usually considered evil and should be killed by burning, but the Harry Potter books have made them popular. Destroy those books by burning.

* WRAITH: Like a ghost, but meaner. Throwing rocks at it does nothing. Try a high powered fan. If that doesn't work, then high powered negotiations.

* ZOMBIE: Really been in vogue lately, so watch out. They are the walking undead, and like to eat human flesh or brains or something. Whatever they want, you ain't gonna like it. Methods of killing them vary, but a shotgun to the head always works in a pinch (their heads, not yours). (B)

* YETI: Large beast that eats traveler in the Himalayas. Best way to defeat one, stay out of the frigg'n Himalayas.

Well, that's all the spooky creatures I can think of; if you can think of others, put them in the comments.

Wow. Another white male. What happened to the politics of gender and race?

Anyway, Alito is number four on John Hawkin's poll of bloggers (I didn't vote for him as I didn't know much about him; back in the long long ago I trusted Bush to know these kind of things). He sounds good, and I'm still waiting for the full left-wing freak out about him.

Anyway, as always, Michelle Malkin has a good round up. Actually, with this big breaking news, what the hell are you doing here? In reality, you should be checking out the other sites and coming back here and telling what I should know.

If you wondered what it would sound like if two agents of the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy(tm) and a talking cat were attacked by brainless lefty zombies led by Professor Ward "Chutch" Churchill on a Halloween night, then you must listen to the latest audio from IMAO's friends at Pure Idiom.

WARNING: This audio is NOT G-rated kiddie stuff... You will hear zombies wearing ACLU t-shirts get their heads cut off, Nancy Pelosi will be called a VERY bad name, and shock rock legend Alice Cooper will rip "Peace Mom" Cindy Sheehan in half with his bare hands.

FIRST.
What is the big deal about peolple claiming the first comment spot?
Posted by Brian at October 20, 2005 09:07 PM

well, when you say “First, Ducky is the greatest”, then the Magic Duck grants you three wishes.

(Disclaimer: Magic Ducks appear whenever they feel like it)

**

As we all know, if you are bitten by a zombie, you turn into one, and hippies are no different.

Is there a correlation between the two groups?

Posted by Damian G.

Of course there’s a correlation. Let me share some history with you. A long time ago, at the great peace festival known as – the big Mud covered thing where all the stars played and people pooped in the woods – several of the performers were in fact dead. The fact is that they were hopped up on enough chemicals to supply Big Pharma. They not only played while dead – they of course participated in the typical post game orgies – the kind seen only at rock concerts and Clinton Presidencies. Of course, this led to many children being born – not only out of wedlock, but outside the laws of nature. These kids we refer to as hippies.

Why won't the Democrat zombies just admit that they are Communists? Will Lenin ever be buried?
Posted by Fitch

Dear Fitch,

Lenin will probably never be buried. It’s for the best, this way they don’t have to take up valuable soil which could otherwise be used for burying nuclear waste.

The Democrats will never admit they are communist – unless the polling data showed it was a good time to come out of the closet.

**

Why is Helen Thomas so ugly?
Posted by SkyeChild

Please refer to the question about dead rock star sex.

**

Although it's easier to use guns to fight zombies, since you're a knife person, what type of knives do you recommend? I live in Minnesota, so there are a lot of these zombies out here (Remember, we're the only state that Jimmy Carter and Walter Mondale got...or was it just one of them?), and I want to know what my backup weapon should be if I run out of ammo.
Gunlord

Gunlord,
Congratulations on seeking some sort of backup system. I believe that if everyone in this country carried a knife, we’d all be the better for it. Especially since it would give us gunowners an excuse to pop someone. I recommend a good machete which can be purchased at your local Home Depot. If anyone gives you any guff, tell them you need machetes for your illegal day laborers.

**

I need to know the best way to deal with liberal family members who wish to convert me to idiocy..er I mean liberalism. I am unwilling to risk life sentences in prison just to shoot them.

Posted by Willow

Man, I HATE when liberals are out there trying to get conversions. Here in Pasadena, we see them standing on street corners with open issues of Newsweek. Then they come up to you asking if you’re saved and if you’ve accept Hillary Clinton as your savior. I HATE that.

Anyway, there’s no good solution. Maybe you could try logic and reasoning with them.

BWu hahahahahahahahahahahaha.

(wiping tear from his eye) Oh, I kill me sometimes.

Nope, you’re screwed. Learn to live with them and hope that one day they experience a very violent mugging. Then you can visit them at the hospital. Stand by their hospital bed while the thingy beeps in the background and wires and tubes are running in and out of their body parts. Lean over them, look them straight in the eyes and say:“You know who the REAL victim here is? Not you.”

I dress my kid so I can’t recognize her, send her out in the middle of the night asking strangers for candy. What’s strange about that? I mean, is there a holiday in some other country where parents try to throw their kids into stranger’s vans?

**

Does anyone have plans to put up a link to the Carnival of Comedy, or is it just assumed that people know where it's being hosted?
Posted by Fitch

Yes.

**

Should we adopt a constitutional amendment to prevent liberals from using artificial means such as Botox (Senator Kerry), alcohol (Senator Kennedy), plastic surgery (Senator Boxer, Representative Pelosi) or pacts with the devil (Senator Byrd) to preserve themselves and thus retain power for periods that extend beyond those of typical mortals?
Posted by Keith Emery

Hi Keith,

That’s a great idea! Don’t forget to write your Senator. You can send them an email or better, yet, you Harry Potter fans can send him an owl. His HP style address is:

Dear Doctor Ducky,
There is a girl I am trying to impress. Any advice?
Posted by motopolitico

MP,

I don’t know what to advise you. Maybe you could go all out. Maybe you could play hard to get. It depends on the girl and how cute she is. Do you have bikini pictures of her? Send them to me at rightwingduckatyahoodotcom. I’ll evaluate her for you. Oh, and send me her email address too and any fetishes such as liking Mexicans with a sense of humor.

**

Dear Ducky,
If we all know the dead rise from their graves on Halloween, and dead vote Democrat, shouldn't we have Second Amendment Republicans out there shooting Zombies with silver bullets so states like Washington and Illinois turn Red?
Posted by Taleena

Taleena,

You think you could have a gun in Washington? HAHAHAHAHAHA.
Besides, what are you worried about? Halloween, isn’t close enough to election day. Sure, some of the smart zombies go out and apply for absentee ballots – but those tend to vote Republican anyway.

**

Dr. Duck~
What was Tom DeLay thinking that made him smile so convincingly in his mug shot?
Posted by RightWingConspirator

Mr. Earles, head. Stuffed. On his mantle. T

hey don’t call De Lay the hammer because he works for Habitat for Humanity.

**

Dr. Duck,
If, on Halloween night, I open my door and Michael Moore or Cindy Sheehan are standing there, should I open fire immediately? Or is it possible it's a young conservative dressed in the scariest costume they could think of?
Posted by RW

Hi RW,

Great question. The other day I went out to the end of my driveway and thought it was Michael Moore. Turned out to be a big, stinking pile of garbage. But it COULD have been him. So, just to be sure, I shot it. The reality is that you won’t see Mrs. Sheehan or Michael Moore trick or treating as it entails a certain amount of work, and pretending to be someone else.

**

Trick OR Treat?
Posted by spacemonkey

Spacemonkey,

Why are you wearing that Michael Moore costume? (starts to load his rifle)

**

What are your credentials as a Doctor?
Posted by JoshG at October 21, 2005 10:01 AM

Let’s see. I’ve watched Doc Hollywood 17 times, seen every episode of ER, know most of my major body parts, have spent 2 nights in a hospital (sure, with kidney stones – but that still counts) plus I attended the Medical College Bar & Grill every Saturday night for 2 years. Plus, when I take out the battery, I'm pretty good at a game called Operation.

**

What should I, the great Frank J., go as for Halloween?
Posted by Frank J.

Hi Boss,

You should dress as a monkey. That would be funny on so many levels. Unless Ninja monkeys fell in love with you and .. (Censored because this is a family site)

**

Dr. Ducky,
If I answer a knock at the door on Halloween, and see the hideous sight of Hillary Clinton asking for my vote, if I wave garlic at her will that repel her? Or do I need something stronger, like a tactical nuclear device, or maybe a picture of Helen Thomas nude?
Posted by Horrabin

Er. Is there a reason you have nude Helen Thomas pictures? I would recommend seeing a specialist of some kind. Or an eye doctor.

**

Dr. Duck,
I was thinking of dressing up as Hillary for my Halloween party, complete with a Hillary for President 2008 button. Will that be too scary for my guests to handle? Also, can you recommend something to control the uncontrollable vomiting that occurs whenever I think about dressing up as Hillary for Halloween?
Posted by rachel

Whenver, I think of a Hillary Presidency, I try to imagine Helen Thomas naked. I find the wretching and puking really clears out my system. Puking isn’t so bad. I mean, if Hillary was president… if Hillary was president..Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaalf.

Anyway, you could go as Hillary Clinton, but remember to have a cover charge, you can't go to a party without making money from it!

**

Dear Dr. Duck:

If two deaf men get on a westbound train going 42 MPH, and three more deaf men get on an eastbound train going 65 MPH, will anyone hear the crash?
Posted by Army NCO Guy

NCO guy,

In the interest of science, I decided to set up this actual experiment. Unfortunately, both trains were AmTrack and they have yet to arrive anywhere near their locations. We’ll tell you what happens, as soon as congress approves more funding for this boongdoggle – I mean experiment.

**

As an amputee, is it unfair for me to have an authentic peg leg for my pirate costume? Will it give me an unfair advantage in the company Halloween costume contest? Will the ACLU sue me on behalf of Pirate amputees for stereotyping and slander?
Posted by DesertElephant

This same thing happened to my friend Carlos The Stump. He too was an amputee so he decided to go with a real peg leg. Unfortunately, Carlos put the peg leg on his GOOD leg, which later had to be amputated. We all had a good laugh over that one, except for Carlos, of course.

I say work your advantages. Does your office have any girls with big boobs wearing low cut Elvira dresses to show off their cleavage? If so – where do you work? Are they hiring?

No the ACLU would not sue you, unless your wooden leg had a kickstand that somehow made it look like a crucifix. Otherwise, you’re fine.

**

During Mexico's Day of the Dead, how do you tell the difference between costumed revelers and the 10,000 skeletons that washed up from New Orleans?

Posted by El Santo at October 21, 2005 07:17 PM

The Costumed Revelers aren’t imaginary. Also, I believe the revelers drink a bit more. Ah, day of the dead. Now THAT's a holiday that makes sense.

****

Okay, Kiddies. That's it for the Halloween Edition of Ask Dr. Duck. Now, you can go forth and share knowlege. Go have a safe, fun, Hallowe... hey, somebody just threw their kid into my van!!!

Day off, so I haven't been following the news much. Still, I saw from Kevin Drum's site that Karl Rove gave some last minute information to Fitzgerald that kept him from being indicted. I think it was the head of one of Fitzgerald's pets.

The plot is simple: Two unlikely compatriots of the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy (VRWC) and their smart-alecky talking cat battle a horde of commie zombies brought forth by university professor Ward Churchill and a relic of left-wing evil.

In the first of a two part audio extravaganza, (click here to listen) you'll hear the challenges faced by the boys of Pure Idiom:

Can the boys use their neocon connections to have the learned Elders of Zion write up the proper protocols to stop a commie zombie invasion from the Left?

Will they have the energy to fight after bungled Supreme Court nominations and White House indictments?

Tired of all the indictment and Supreme Court news today? How 'bout this bombshell: George Takei, the actor best known as Sulu from Star Trek, says he's a homosexual.

Uh-huh. Like many of you I reacted with a hearty "yeah, so?"

George Takei is a guy that complained to the media that William Shatner was trying to pull rank to block Sulu from commanding the U.S.S. Excelsior in Star Trek 6. "Pulling rank," Georgie? It's a friggin' TV SHOW! There's no such thing as Starfleet! There's no ship to command! You're a friggin' ACTOR, dude!

And so, another actor proclaims his homosexuality in Hollywood. Maybe if he did this in 1975 this would've been news, but in 2005 most people say: "Yeah, so what?"

You know what I wanna see? I wanna see something in Hollywood that is REALLY shocking: I wanna see male actors everyone thinks are homosexuals loudly and publicly proclaim their heterosexuality.

If you're not sure how this absurd scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that "political humor" thing, it doesn't. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume that Piper is... um...

Help me out here. Make your suggestions in the comments how this scene is, in fact, a political allegory.

If you go now, look what SeanS will add to your order! Are you looking? No matter. The ginsu knives will wait for you.
----
BTW We need hosts.
November 3rd - OPEN!
November 10th - almostaverage
November 17th - OPEN!

I have an email if you can find it, and you can afford it, maybe you can hire..the A-...I mean host the carnival. And for clarities sake, it's free to host.

There are some fears that Bush will not make a good pick once again now that Miers has been dispatched with. It is thought that Bush might nominate a monkey - perhaps even a monkey that bites. Even worse, a monkey without a clear judicial philosophy.

We must make sure Bush knows that if he doesn't nominate a rabid, extreme right-wing conservative, we will be so mad we will punch people. Then Bush will make sure to appease us so as to avoid violence.

Man, I'm so ready for a big fight with the Democrats over this next nomination, but I'm afraid they're just going to cower in the corner and cry as usual.

"Well, Saddam had a daring escape with the help of Zarqawi, and I pursued him with my father. We heard he was after Stalin's secret stash, but then found out he was really after the magical artifact of Stalin's 'stache - Stalin’s moustache that was shaved off his dead body before he was dumped in a river. I then got the help of the 'stache expert John Bolton and caught up to Saddam just as he replaced his moustache with Stalin's. Then I got bored and forgot what happened next."

"Where's Bush Sr.?"

Bush shrugged his shoulders. "Stuck somewhere in Syria, I think. Don't we have business to attend to?"

"We do need a new SCOTUS nominee now that we finally got rid of Miers," Condi stated.

"Who’s Miers?" Bush answered.

"I've told you tons of times that suddenly pretending you never heard of her isn't going to get you out of this," Laura scolded him, "You better get a good nominee this time if you're going to send me out to defend him or her. I don't want Rush Limbaugh making fun of me again."

"Fine," Bush grumbled, "So who do the blogs want? Those guys are annoying, and I want to shut 'em up."

Condi looked on her laptop. "'Not Gonzales' seems to be the consensus."

"How about Judge Evel Conservative of Texas," Condi suggested, "He's presided over more rulings for execution than any judge. He's even then strangled some convicts himself as soon as the ruling was handed down... sometime only when the jury is only halfway through reading the verdict."

Bush thought about this, but a man racing back and forth on a rocket scooter screaming, "Weeeeee!!!" was breaking his concentration.

"Can you stop that, Scooter Libby!" Bush yelled. He then looked to Cheney. "Why do you keep him around?"

"Sometime I like to have perfectly legal classified discussions with him that he may or may not pass on to the press to destroy our enemies," Cheney answered.

"Oh yeah, we might have indictments coming," Bush grumbled. He looked to Libby. "You promise me you won't have some big shootout with police if they try to bring you in."

"Okey-dokey."

Bush stared at him a second. "Why do you have an assault rifle slung over your shoulder?"

"It's not an assault rifle," Libby answered, "It's a semi-auto with only a pistol grip and detachable magazine."

Ok you know by now Frank J. is writing at least one book, maybe more. And you know how books are sometimes made into movies. Like that Harry Potter series, those books about Hobbitses and the Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy. Shoot, even the occasional videogame gets made into a movie or cartoon. Final Fantasy, Doom, Resident Evil.

CARTOONS even get made into movies, Scoobydoo, PokeMon, anyone?. But I digress.

To my knowledge no blog has ever been made into a movie. BUT! If IMAO (a blog, nay, THE (capital B) Blog) were made into a hit motion picture, not Frank J's book which will undoubtedly be devoid of his co-bloggers, who would you cast as whom? And why?

For those who are memory challenged or for religious reasons don't read sidebars, the lineup is as follows.

Harriet Miers has withdrawn herself as a Supreme Court Nominee (only a headline now; waiting for a link)! You heard it here first (unless you saw it at some other place like RightWingNews such as I did). Could this put a damper on Fitzmas if Bush comes back by nominating an even bigger conservative to the Court than God Himself? Only time and endless speculation can tell.

UPDATE: Here's a link. Bush is using the request for internal documents as the excuse for her withdrawing just like many conservative pundits predicted (not me; I'm keeping my perfect prediction record of zero for zero).

UPDATE 2: Had to explain to co-workers why I suddenly jumped up and danced a jig in the hallway. Better get back to work...

Saddam: "You can't handle the truth!...Son, we live in a world that has Kurds, and those Kurds have to be killed by men with mustard gas. Who's gonna do it?... You?... Some Jew named Weinberg?

I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for the Kurds and you curse the Baath Party. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that gassing those Kurds to death, while tragic, probably put me in the lead in Laurence Simon's Dead Pool. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, keeps President Bush OUT of the lead in Laurence Simon's Dead Pool.

You don't want the truth because, deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me to gas Kurds... you need me to gas Kurds.

I use words like mass murder, slaughter, genocide. I use these words as the backbone of a life spent killing people. You use them as a criminal charge.

I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who will make a fortune selling the movie rights to the story of this trial and then questions the manner in which I killed the Kurds that made this trial possible! I would rather you just said "Allah Akbar!" and went on your way. Otherwise I suggest you pick up some mustard gas and kill some Kurds. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to."

Moussawi: Did you gas those Kurds?

Saddam: (quietly) I did what I needed to do to get ahead in Laurence Simon's Dead Pool.

Yep, he IS scheduled to host it, the question now is, did I respond to his email in time?

Tune in tomorrow to find out.

BTW: Shooting a liberal IS legal if you can prove self defense. A challenge considering they are unlikely to own a handgun. However, if you argue long enough with them you can get them to foam at the mouth, then you might can make a "Hey, I thougth he was a rabid, smelly, dirty, wild animal! How was I supposed to know he was merely a foaming, smelly, dirty, wild liberal?" argument stick.

Well, if there was ever any doubt, Iran has publicly stated that they want to wipe Israel off of the map. Spain and France are protesting with uncharacteristically harsh words directed at Israel...

I mean Iran. Heh. Just got in the habit of those two countries yelling at Israel when other countries threaten their existence. Silly habit of mine. Sorry about that.

Anyway, this Iranian death-threat seems somewhat harsh, considering they won't even send their judo champion up against his Jewish opponent in the Olympics. If they shy away from a sissy Japanese slap-fight, imagine how they'd act in a war against a real opponent.

(And, no I'm not talking about Saddam's Iraq in the eighties. We gave him hand-me-down worn-out secondhand boom-booms so he could more easily cull his own troublesome Shi'ite population as cannonfodder.)

I figure the solution to this whole IAEA/Islamic Bomb nonsense will involve the Russians outsourcing technical support for the nuclear reactors they're building for the Iranians to India.

All it takes is just a slight Chernobyl-style problem with the control rods sticking, and...

*RING* *RING* *RING*
*CLICK*
IRAN: Help! Help! Help!
RECORDING: Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order it was received.
IRAN: Help! Help! Help!
RECORDING: While waiting, you can check our Knowledge Base and Technical Support Library at nuclearreactors.co.il
IRAN: We can't! We block websites hosted by the Zionist Aggressor Enemy! Help! He-
*KABOOM*
(five minutes later)
INDIA: Hello? This is be Samuel. With whom be I speaking to? Hello? Are you is there speaking, hear me?
IRAN: (silence)
INDIA: Hello? Please volume turn up on phone yours to be.

Problem solved, update your RISK maps with a big hole where Persia used to be.

Anyone read the Michael Chrichton book I'm currently advertising, State of Fear? I know it's about global warming hysteria which is cool and all, but is it any good?

Been a long while since I last read a Michael Chricton book; I think The Lost World was the last one (the main character of which I thought he killed off in the first book - though didn't die in the movie).

Every so often in our nation's history we adopt a policy of strict isolationism due to our fear and ignorance.

It is once again time for such fear and ignorance.

"If it ain't happening in American borders, we don't care anymore."

It's time to admit the obvious: the rest of the world hates us. So, let's hate them back. Really, what's worth all this grief we get from dealing with them? Apparently they all enjoy fascism and murder and what not, so leave them to it. The Middle East was just fine having war with itself before we came along (not to mention the meddlesome joooos). Europe thinks it’s so smart, so let's hand over the keys to the rest of the world to them and declare "If it ain't happening in American borders, we don't care anymore."

Let's pull American troops out of everywhere and station them around our own borders. Let's sever all outside communications, no longer take calls from foreign diplomats, and outlaw international flights. "American" will be the only acknowledged form of human communication, and all other attempts at linguistics will be banned. Maps of the world will only show America with "There be dragons here" the only thing said about whatever is outside our borders. Hawaii will be abandoned as it's just too big an outlier to coincide with our new strict isolationism.

I know; you think you see problems with this. "Don't we need stuff from other countries?" you probably ask. Bah! Sure, it's nice to get cheap plastic trinkets from China, but I bet Mexico can make stuff for us cheap and they're right next door (hell, half its citizens are already in this country and hanging outside Home Depot). As for oil, if we ever need any we can just invade our neighbor Canada. That would be a nice war that families could participate in on the weekend vacations. And, since at any time many Americans are in Canada as tourists, all we have to do is make sure they're armed and then we're occupying the place without a change in status quo. See, all our needs can be met with only dealing with the two countries contiguous to the U.S.A.

But what if terrorists attack again because their god Llama told them too? Then we start nuking places at random (cruise missiles are preferred as we can use those from the comfort of our own home). Our new policy will be that we no longer distinguish between foreigners, so, if we are attacked, it is the fault of all non-Americans. Other countries will soon learn that America is extremely violent when preturbed, and soon they'll be tripping over each other to make sure that no one ever bothers us.

Space exploration can continue, but we must make it clear that we own space. All astronauts should have knives to stab anyone they see in space who isn't an American. All countries will know that, if you go into space, America will cut you.

It's a complex world, and it is time to simplify things. And, if you have a better plan for world peace than not caring about the rest of the world, then I'd like to hear it.

Unless you're foreign; then I'll cut you.

Frank J. is a syndicated columnist whose columns appear worldwide on IMAO.us and is a frequent contributor to IMAOPodcast.com. He is also the author of such books as "Atlas of Countries That Don't Suck (a.k.a., A Map of the U.S.)" and "The Dummies Guide to Being a Cranky Hermit".

I’d like to take a moment to complain about an insensitivity that is taking place in our society every waking moment.

If you’re like me, then you more than likely have very strong Anti-Cannibalistic beliefs. It’s an integral part of my Christian beliefs. The Bible tells us that Moses came down with the Ten Commandments and shared with his people - Thou Shall not Eat Thy Neighbor. This was a good thing because at the bottom of Mt. Sinai natives gathered to have Moses On a Stick.

These are our beliefs. Yet everyday I see stuff that offends me and hurts me more than I can say.

Barbie Dolls.

For those of you who live in caves, and I don’t mean to offend you if your religion demands that you do so, Barbie dolls are little dolls that are played with the world over. Sure, they have different variations such as

Ken: A Barbie doll with a penis.

Kelly. A Barbie Doll but smaller.

Bratz Dolls. Like Barbie – but with bad makeup and herpes blisters.

Is there no caring for my religious beliefs? ’m sorry, but I DON'T EAT HUMANS!! Yet each day, I’m subject to seeing dolls and doll like figures everywhere I look and does ANYBODY CARE!!

No of course not.

That’s why I’m starting a new society. Ideological Society to Lessen Antagonizing Me, or as I call it – ISLAM.

Speaking of which, in England, we see that British Banks are no longer giving away piggy banks lest the idea of pigs with money offend the Muslim sensibility. This is a big victory for Muslims. Now they can work on obliterating the other pigs with money – Americans.

However, I feel that if my anti Cannibal beliefs are not respected – then it is truly a sad day for all of us.

Please support us as we, the non-cannibalistic (unless its at the SuperDome) Americans of America, struggle to right this wrong.

With another big round number reached in the number of American deaths, liberals are in gleeful celebration thinly covered by faux-mourning. I don't think this will have the legs of the 1,000 number they we're all drooling for way back when, but I still really want to punch of these people. How do I get that feeling out my system? Punching one of these people?

To some, the death is a tragedy. To others, a statistic. And to the loon, political opportunity!

I've been hyping up a Halloween podcast for over a week here and elsewhere, but last night I heard the teaser audio. It's less than 2mins long but gives listeners a taste of the Halloween funny to expect next Monday, October 31. In this teaser, I do the voices for all of the teenagers and the zombie Ward Churchill.

On October 5th I wrote the first draft of a Halloween episode where Laurence Simon (the voice of the talking cat), Nathan, and I enlist the aid of shock rocker Alice Cooper to fight against commie zombies led by an evil professor with questionable Native American heritage. With our real jobs hampering progress, it's taken a while to translate that script to a sweet hit of audio ecstasy.

One of the first scenes I wrote that you'll hear in the full Halloween podcast next Monday, is this scene where we stop by a friend's house that collects working movie props to arm ourselves against the commie zombie horde:

Nathan: "Hey, Is that a real lightsaber?"
(SFX OF LIGHTSABER NOISE)
The Cat: "It's amazing what you can buy on eBay"
Scott: "That thing goes through batteries faster than Kate Moss goes through a line of cocaine. Take the Highlander sword instead"
Nathan: "What are you getting?"
Scott: "Ahnuld's double-barrelled shotgun from T2"
(SOUND OF SHOTGUN LOADING)
Nathan: "Why do you get to have a gun and I have a sword?"
Scott: "What's wrong with the sword?"
Nathan: "Well, I've never used a sword. What if I swing it around and accidentally cut your head off?"
Scott: "Okay, that would be bad. So, do you want the shotgun?"
Nathan: "Yeah, sure."
(SOUND OF GUN AND SWORD HANDLING)
The Cat: "You're gonna give him the shotgun?"
Scott: "Now what?"
The Cat: "He's never used a gun either. He could accidentally shoot you in the head... or worse, he could miss"
Scott: "Okay, how 'bout I take the sword and the shotty and let Nathan swing you by your the tail like a fluffy white flail?"
(SFX OF CRICKETS AND WIND BLOWING IN THE DISTANCE)
The Cat: "Your mom."

I'll let you know when the full Pure Idiom Halloween podcast is available for download.

There have been many problems and scandals with the White House and Republicans in general lately, and it can be quite daunting to follow it all. Thus, as a service to fellow Americans (and the curious nationality-challenged), IMAO is providing this FAQ to explain everything as simply as possible. Remember, IMAO is patriotic first and a money-grubbing blog second (a very close second).

Q. In brief, what are the problems facing the conservative movement right now?
A. Implosion.

Q. Uh... how about less briefly.
A. Apparently - and I am having to make some guesses to fill in the gaps - Cheney, conspiring with half of Bush's staff, had the covert agent Valerie Plame exposed and then hired an ex-KGB agent (using money Tom "Smiley" Delay laundered from excessive pork-barrel spending) for a failed assassination attempt against her. This was all in retaliation for Joe Wilson revealing that Iraq had no WMDs and that the only reason for war with them was that Saddam refused a Halliburton contract. Since some of the evidence was in New Orleans, Bush blew up the levees in an attempted cover up (and because, as has been revealed on a secretly taped conversation that should be in next week's news cycle, he hates all black people).

Q. I don't see how we can spin this.
A. It gets worse.

Q. How?!
A. In tomorrow's news cycle, expect to hear about Bush's weather machine that malfunctioned after he tried to give America eternal sunshine and instead caused all these hurricanes.

Q. He's playing God! The man is insane!
A. Clinically insane. Documents proving that should be reprinted in papers by the end of the week. Speaking of insane, we haven't even touched the subject of the Harriet Miers nomination.

Q. Why is it that, every time I see a picture of Harriet Miers, I suddenly turn away as if something just struck me in the eye?
A. That's because her nomination is like spitting in the eye of all conservatives.

Q. Even the blind ones?
A. Even the blind ones.

Q. So why did he do it?
A. Apparently, Bush practices "cronyism" and only appoints people he personally knows from chatting with him or her at the water cooler in the White House.

Q. I once saw that water cooler in a White House tour!
A. They used to discuss episodes of Seinfeld there.

Q. But, Alan Greenspan's successor, Ben Bernanke, isn't a crony, is he?
A. Bernanke was only nominated because he used to clean out the gutters at Bush's ranch and he and Bush occasionally had discussions about football. Bernanke's only qualification is that he once did his own taxes.

Q. Is there any chance Bush will see the outcry and withdraw the Miers nomination?
A. No. He's too stubborn.

Q. As stubborn as a mule?
A. More stubborn. A standard mule beating (a "SMuB" for short) is defined as the amount of beating that would 75% of the time get compliance from the average mule. Bush has received the equivalent of 1.34 GigaSMuBs from the press coverage of him, and he's yet to comply once.

Q. So he's 1.34 billion times as stubborn as a mule?
A. No, you're not looking at the math right. He's at least 1.34 billion times as stubborn as a mule (and, mathematically, highly probably to be much much more stubborn than that based on current data).

Q. Egads!
A. I know. Doesn't stuff like that make you wish you had a chalkboard in your garage to run out to and hastily write equations on like that guy in Numb3rs?

Q. No.
A. Okay, I guess that's just me.

Q. So what happens now?
A. We wait until the inevitable loony-liberal take over of Congress in 2006 followed by the Hillary Clinton presidency in 2008 and then 500 years of darkness (300 with good behavior).

Q. But it was prophesized that such things could not happen while God still looked over this land!
A. The official word is that, displeased with the Harriet Miers nomination, God has abandoned us and is now devoting His time to working on Mexico. I, for one, wish Him the best of luck in His new endeavor.

Q. Is there anything we can do?
A. Nope.

Q. Nothing at all?
A. Well, nothing that wouldn't take a lot of work that I frankly don't have time for.

Q. Can we flee?
A. To where? All other countries suck. Plus, I really think I need to keep my house at least another two years to get a good return on the investment.

Q. Maybe I can use my guns against the liberals when they take over.
A. I'd keep that on the table - and I mean I'd literally keep my guns out on a table ready to use.

Q. I guess the only thing left is to hope and pray.
A. You can hope, but, as already discussed, God has abandoned us and won't hear your prayers unless you're south of the border and speaking Spanish.

Q. Woe! Be this the end of [insert your name here]?
A. Perhaps, but I do have good news.

Q. What?
A. I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico (I really did!).

Well, the two trees that were leaning from last year's storms are leaning even more, but I didn't even lose power this time (well, it flashed off a couple times; once just before I was going to save on a GameCube game). Only one traffic light of many wasn't working on my way to work. It really was nothing compare to the two that hit our area last year. I actually could have posted about anytime during the hurricane yesterday but didn't because I was... well... tired. I sincerely doubt there will be any rumors of us reverting to cannibalism.

I've heard that 6 million are without power in Florida, so how many people are in Florida?

BTW, the podcast will be a bit delayed this week because of high winds, but should be out by the end of the week (in time for Halloween). I got a preview of an audio bit from our resident photoshopper, cadet happy, and it's indescribably hilarious. Should be fun.

Finally, I've yet to see a cgi error since Friday night, so comment away.

P.S. It's chilly outside today. It's never chilly here this time of year...

Frank J's bitter archrival, Scrappleface.com's Scott Ott, has set up his blog in such a way that comments no longer show on his fake news monstrosity site. I guess having that big book "Axis of Weebles" published has gone to his head or something. Or maybe he contacted some sort of can't-read-no-more disease from touching all that nasty, filthy money from the sales of his book but whatever. Probably has a premium service with people paying to comment now.

Doesn't affect anyone around here though, right? Nobody goes over there for any sort of funny or anything, anyway.

Have no fear, comments are still available here, for free, for a limited time.

***
Update: A more mature blogger would post an update to this entry because it has been proven wrong. Let me make one thing clear, I am NOT that mature blogger.

Laurence Simon (who is much more knowledgeable about the current Houston v. Chicago World Series than I am) and I talked briefly last night after the Houston Astros' close game about how he thought the Series will play out.

Laurence had some interesting predictions that made a lot of sense. This morning I find out that the editors at videogame magazine GameSpot ran a "simulated World Series" on a Microsoft Xbox and came to conclusions that are very similar to Laurence's predictions.

Welcome to Fun Facts About the 50 States. I'm your host, Harvey, and - week by week - I'll be taking you on a tour around this great nation of ours, providing you with interesting yet completely useless and probably untrue, information about each of the 50 states.

This week, it's time to follow the yellow brick road out to Kansas, so let's get started...

Kansas became the 34th state on January 29th, 1861 because America needed to meet its Affirmative Action quota for stolen Indian land.

Kansas was originally populated by people from Iowa who just couldn't handle that state's hectic, fast-paced lifestyle anymore.

The state bird of Kansas is the meadowlark, whose beautiful song failed to impress Simon during an American Idol audition.

The state flower of Kansas is the sunflower, the seeds of which are highly poisonous and can only be cured with high doses of steroids.

At least according to the Major League Baseball Player's Union.

Kansas lies along the eastern edge of Colorado, but sometimees sneaks across the border in the dead of night to steal the occasional mountain.

Kansas normally maintains a constant temperature of 72 degrees all year long, but sometimes impish tornadoes mess with the thermostat when no one's looking.

At just over 4000 feet, Mt. Sunflower is the highest point in Kansas.

And yeah, they stole it from Colorado. Dirty, thieving Kansasians!

The state flag of Kansas consists of a blue background behind a wicked witch and four flying monkeys.

Members of the Kansas Board of Education voted to outlaw the teaching of evolution in Kansas schools to avoid offending monkeys who were outraged at the suggestion that they evolved from hippies.

The state song of Kansas is "We're Not Too Crazy About Newton's Theory of Gravity, Either".

The state motto of Kansas is "Flat, boring, and full of wheaty goodness. We're like America's snack cracker!"

The word Kansas comes from a Sioux Indian word meaning "Probably not a good place to build a ski resort".

Cawker City, Kansas is home to the world's largest ball of twine. It contains over 300 miles of string and 73 slow kittens.

Kansas has a population of 2.6 million people, but surprisingly, NONE of them have ever seen "The Wizard of Oz", and they'll just stare at you blankly if you refer to someone's dog as Toto.

The state tree of Kansas is the cottonwood tree, which is used to make very splintery T-shirts.

The first female Mayor in the US was Susan Salter, elected in Argonia, Kansas in 1887. However, she was soon driven out of office due to a scandalous affair with her intern, Marvin Lewinsky

No relation to Monica, although, he WAS rumored to occasionally wear a blue dress.

The dial telephone was invented by Almon Stowger of El Dorado, Kansas and was a vast improvement over earlier models which required the user to make different animal noises for each digit.

The 34th President of the US - Dwight Eisenhower - was born in Abilene, Kansas. His portrait was removed from the dollar coin in 1979, but still remains on most Chuck E. Cheese game tokens.

In exchange for the relatively low income tax rate, citizens of Kansas are required to spend one week each year working in one of the state's wheat mines.

Kansas has the lowest suicide rate of any state in the US, mostly because there's nothing high enough to jump off of.

The state sport of Kansas is WheatBall, which is even less exciting than it sounds.

The state constitution of Kansas guarantees its citizens the right to keep and bear tornadoes.

Mostly as a defense against any flying monkeys that might their way over the rainbow from Oz.

Kansas has the largest population of wild grouse in the US. These birds are also known as "prairie chickens" or "meadow Frenchmen".

There are over 500 caves in Kansas. The fact that Bruce Wayne owns all of them does NOT prove that he's Batman.

Last year, Kansas grew 500 million bushels of wheat, which, if it were all made into bread, would be enough to feed Michael Moore lunch.

Well, that wraps up the Kansas edition of Fun Facts About the 50 States. Next week I'll be out shopping for moonshine in Kentucky.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go play a game of WheatBall... yay.
______________

Since Wilma was upgraded from a hurricane to death storm, we put the metal storm shutters up, and my place of business has been closed for tomorrow. Just have to sit and wait for the storm. If you don't hear from me in the next couple days, assume I'm dead, out of power, or lazy as usual.

Actually, assume I'm dead. I'd love to come back to the blogosphere and see tons of glowing eulogies.

If I'm not dead, out of power, or lazy all next week, expect the continuation of the In My World™ to be posted here and the Epilogue for Superego to be posted... somewhere.

So he hired Phin, who - bitter at not being invited to join IMAO - agreed to use his awesome photoshopping powers to destroy IMAO once and for all.

With dreams of vengeance twisting his mind, he developed an image so inhumanly revolting that a single glance would send any IMAO reader screaming into the night, clawing at his eyes, never to return again to the now-accursed URL of www.imao.us.

The only way to defeat Evil Glenn's foul plot is to not view the extended entry...

I just got a fundraising e-mail from the Democrats trying to use Tom Delay's mug shot against him. So, they have this whole letter bad-mouthing him, and there he is, smiling and looking like the nicest guy in the world.

Picture from fundraising e-mail.

I never had much of an opinion of Tom Delay before, but right now I think he's the coolest politician ever from how he threw this indictment right back in the Democrats' faces. Only way this could have been better if the Democrats got him to do the perp walk like they wanted, but he did it while struting to the tune "Staying Alive."

If you're not sure how this absurd scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that "political humor" thing, it doesn't. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume that Nardo is... um...

Help me out here. Make your suggestions in the comments how this scene is, in fact, a political allegory.

the kitties love to torture mommy and blame everything on each other. the other day, i was printing wedding invitations and reading IMAO on the desktop computer. Minerva believes that all printers are inherently evil and should never be allowed to operate. she also believes that anything that comes out of the printer should be killed dead.

I was hoping to have a bit more of a discussion at Baen's Bar; if you have some critiques of Superego, please participate. I plan on starting on a regular novel soon - probably back to standard third person - and would like some feedback if you have some. As for the epilogue, I'll at least send it to the participants in the discussion. I think the story works without it, but I think it will be a nice addition.

For the Superego unconcerned, expect the next part to Wednesday's IMW later today.

What has greasy hair and wants to suck your blood? Enough about Maureen Dowd already. Hahahaha.

Ahem. Anyway, Halloween is almost here and I'm so excited. This is a special Holiday in which we celebrate by asking our neighbors for free candy and then egging their house. Which reminds me of political fundraising!

Anway, I'm here to answer the questions that stick to the back of your mind like bad popcorn kernels. Want to know about Halloween? Have a moral question? Need guidance on relationships? Don't know how to dress for Halloween to impress a first date?

The Doctor is in.

Post questions in comments. Some of these will get used in the upcoming podcast.

Man, I bet some people wish they had driver's license photos as good as this mugshot. Rush Limbaugh had been saying that as soon as there was a mugshot of Tom Delay, it's all the press will ever use as a photo of him - even if he's cleared of all charges. Luckily, Delay takes a good mugshot.

You've probably heard about the NBA dress code by now. Some people say it's racist, but isn't saying the dress code is racist a racist statement in itself since white people can desire to dress like an idiot too?

With the ginormous hurricane Wilma heading my way, I'm really worried about bird flu. Who wants bird flu when you have a hurricane to deal with? Thus, I had my crack research team find out all they can about the flu of birds.

* The bird flu was named after its creator, NBA great and mad scientist Larry Bird.

* Bird flu is spread by avians. I'm not sure what those are, so, if you see something you don't recognize, destroy it. If you've been following Homeland Security procedures, you should already be doing that anyway.

* Birds also spread the bird flu. In them, it's incurable since feeding them chicken soup is just sick.

* Giving birds flu shots might help to prevent them getting the flu, but it's really hard to do since birds seem to be able to fly away. How do they do that?!

* Bird flu seems to be mainly affecting people in Asia which is far away and thus allowing us to laugh at it.

* You can tell a bird is infected because it will have a little bird cough. It's kinda cute, actually. Anyway, kill the bird and burn its body.

* I'm not sure how bird flu gets to humans, but your best bet is to make sure no bird flies into your open mouth.

* When a person is infected with bird flu, he will attack all those around him in a savage fashion. Or maybe that's the rage virus from 28 Days Later. Either way, stay away from those people.

* If you think you see Superman, shoot a rifle at him. He can often be mistaken for a bird (or a plane) and vice versa. If it is Superman, then no harm done (unless you hit him in the eye; ow!).

* If you shoot Aquaman saying you mistook him for a bird, I don't think anyone will buy it.

* BTW, in a fight between Aquaman and bird flu, Aquaman would get infected and die since seagulls are always crapping on his head when he surfaces.

* Children can be extremely susceptible to infection, so, if Big Bird tries to teach your child the alphabet, kill him and burn his body.

* If you think you have the bird flu, try flying south to a more relaxed climate... unless you're a human. Then, I dunno... see a doctor or something. But not my doctor; I don't want you to kill him with your bird flu.

Millionaire lefty song composer Burt Bacharach has written lots of famous schmaltzy love songs for about 50 years, but the love has turned to hate. Snoop Burty Burt has been working with rap artists lately and now is so angry at George W. Bush that he's written both the music and lyrics for protest songs against Republicans, Iraqi Freedom, and prominent African-Americans he considers sellouts for not being Democrats like him.

I'm certain Bacharach's CD will sell. There will always be people that buy something from an artist no matter how poorly conceived or executed just because those fans think the artist can do no wrong.

A good example of that is Yoko Ono. She's the older woman with marginal talents and a failing career that hooked up with a younger man with some talent that was going places. Most people with any objectivity knew that Yoko Ono was just a parasite on John Lennon, but John Lennon thought she could do no wrong and turned his career over to her. No matter how bad Lennon's creative output was after Ono entered the picture, there would always be fans of his that would say: "Right on, man. You're, like, so inspired as artists, man."

>scoff< Hippies!

Of course, if Yoko Oko didn't have John Lennon's previous output with Paul McCartney to draw from, she'd be screwed. That's just par for the course... Burt Bacharach can do a CD full of lackluster protest songs he penned by himself because he's living off his past glories of the songs he co-wrote with other artists.

Yes, as mentioned at the end of the post of Superego in Baen's Bar, there is an epilogue to the story. I was planning to maybe do it as a dramatic reading if we were going to have an IMAO Christmas DVD this year, but I'll post it here on IMAO for free if you all do a little favor in excahnge.

Some background: Baen is a publisher of science fiction (I've met some authors he's published through this site). He's going to have a new magazine, and, at the suggestion of a reader, I submitted Superego for it by posting it over in Astounding Slush at Baen's Bar (I reedited it so there are no longer 44 breaks in the story).

Now, I wanted to have a discussion of Superego to help me be a better writer. Since comments are buggy over here right now (it will be fixed soon), I thought maybe we could have a discussion of the story over at Baen's Bar. It's already started, and, if you liked the story (or even if you didn't it), I think it would be nice for you to post a critique over there. Yes, you have to do a very quick registration, but that seems like a small price to pay since you already got a free story. By having the discussion over there, I might get a little exposure, and, as long as a good discussion gets going, I'll write the epilogue (it's already written in my head) and post it.

As for the critique, please tell me what you thought were the strengths or the story, any questions you have, and, most importantly, what you didn't like. DO NOT BE AFRAID OF HURTING MY FEELINGS. I've been through critiques where pretty much every sentence of something I wrote got ripped apart. I need honesty to be a better writer.

So, please go over there, register, and join the discussion. Then, I'll post the epilogue and you'll for certain know the fate of Rico.

UPDATE: Also, if there's any part that sticks out as needing being changed, mention that.

Hey, I'd like to give out a shout out to Kevin (a.k.a. cadet happy, a.k.a. lots of other stuff) for the promotional image for the new podcast. I think we're getting our groove back and should be doing one once a week again.

And isn't SarahK doing a great job with the editing?

BTW, we have less than a third of the votes for our podcast this month at podcastalley.com than we usually get, and we need to improve our image there to impress the other 'casters. So, if you haven't done so this month, please vote.

UPDATE: We're also on Yahoo now. You can go rate us there and write a review and subscribe or whatnot.

Sorry I haven't been keeping you up with the latest Aqua-Adventures in the comics, but lots of things and stuff have been happening underwater. Still, I have good news for you. Tonight on WB (the greatest of all the networks) I will be appearing in Smallville (well, an actor playing me will be in it). So, make sure to watch it to make it the highest rated episode of any TV show ever to show your support of me, Aquaman.

To boost ratings, the producers of Boston Legal are busy promoting (I don't consider promoting a dirty word) the fact a big star will be making his return to TV after many years of being away: Michael J. Fox.

I guess the producers of Boston Legal wanted to shake things up a bit...

UPDATE: These are great captions, guys. My favorite so far has been from "Robby."

UPDATE 2: 404'ed? I feel for you, Infinity8ball, my brotha!

FINAL UPDATE: Not counting those 404-error dupes and two pathetically ill-conceived attacks, the photo captions were awesome, guys. My personal faves (in no order) were from Robby, Chris, and AZ Teach. Thanks!

A guy just walked by me wearing the same outfit that Jon Cryer wore as "Ducky" in the movie Pretty In Pink from 1986.

Nineteen eighty-six, for pity's sake!

Is Halloween early this year or have fashions leapt backwards by two decades?

Speaking of Halloween, Laurence Simon will voice Tinkerbell The Cat and Shmuley, Scribe to the Learned Elders of Zion in the upcoming Halloween episode of the Pure Idiom Podcast. I will be voicing rockstar Alice Cooper, about a dozen commie zombies, and the character that confronts lefty college professor Ward Churchill in a blood-splattered showdown.

WARNING! Listen to Pure Idiomonly if you want to hear an uncensored conservative humor podcast that is unafraid to pee-pee off those wacky-pinkytoe liberals.

Anyhoo, since I didn't have any real plans for it, I followed a reader's suggestion and posted Superego over at Baen's Bar in the Astounding Slush section for Baen's new magazine. Yes, the entire story in order (with a few slight edits as it no longer has 44 different breaks in the story) is there.

If you liked the story, maybe you can go over there and comment on it in the Astounding Slush Comments section (it only takes a second to register). I don't know if that will help, but it's worth a shot.

I still plan a discussion of the story here when comments stop being buggy, but we can start one there... especially if you have any questions about the story.

BTW, there's a surprise about the story hidden over there... something I haven't mentioned here. Actually, if we get a discussion going over at Baen's Bar in the Astounding Slush Comments section (under the "Superego Comments Take 2" post) to make me look impressive, I'll reward you all with that secret for free instead of tricking you into paying for it as I originally planned.

"As going with Iraqi law, I am once again offering everyone a pretrial mint," the judge said. The bailiff then walked around the audience with a bowl of mints. "Since we're still waiting on the results of the vote on the Constitution and we don't have any other rules about trials other than the mints, I'll just play this by ear. If you don't like how I'm running things, there's a suggestion box in the back. Once everyone is done consuming his or her mint, we shall start again for the day on the trial of Saddam Hussein."

Former President George Bush Sr. took the stand. "Saddam tried to have me killed. That was not prudent."

The judge used an air horn to restore silence. "There will be no jumping and shouting in my courtroom... except on casual court rules Fridays."

Laura urged Dubya back into his seat.

"Isn't it true that you fought against Iraq's military and then imposed sanctions against his country?" Saddam's lawyer questioned the elder Bush.

"Yes, but we're America; what's wrong with that?"

"They agitated me into invading Kuwait," Saddam said mournfully, "All I really wanted was a basket full of kittens, but the means Americans couldn't let me be a dictator in peace!"

"If you're going to interrupt, Saddam," the judge warned, "then I'm going to let someone from the other side interrupt for balance." He pointed to Dubya.

Dubya sprung to his feet and held his wooden chair in the air. "You're a bad man, and I'm going to beat you to death with this chair!"

The judge blew his air horn again. "There will be no chair fights in my courtroom! If you are going to beat Saddam to death, you take it outside!"

"But it's hot out there!" Dubya complained as Laura put him back in his seat.

Dubya took the stand next. "So, Mr. American President," said Saddam's lawyer, "what were you thinking when you nominated Harriet Miers for the Supreme Court?"

"I don't think that’s relevant," Dubya answered.

"Please answer the questions," the judge said, "I'm curious about that one."

"Me too," said the prosecutor.

"Yeah, what the hell were you thinking, son?" Bush Sr. asked.

"This coming from the guy who appointed Souter?" Dubya shot back.

The bailiff whispered to the judge. "Apparently a new law on courtroom procedures have been passed," the judge said, "We are supposed to have a break for beverages every ten minutes. Your choice of beverages will be coffee, tea, or Clamato."

As everyone went for refreshments, Dubya found himself face to face with Saddam. "You gassed those Kurds!" Dubya yelled, "You're going to get executed for that! I hope you get the gas chamber so you'll know what it feels like to be in a chamber!"

The IMAO book club meeting (the discussion of Superego) will come a bit later. Hosting Matters is going to move IMAO to a new server which should end the problems you might have noticed when you try to comment. I'm going to wait until then.

I finally got an idea for a new In My World™, so I'll work on that when I have some time.

Stay tuned for that, the podcast, and posts from all your favorite IMAO bloggers.

SarahK is finishing editing together the podcast as we speak. This time it has all the IMAO cast members in it (even Kevin... but not Aquaman because we hate him). It will be super-funny and you shall love and worship us.

A liberal was annoying me today, so I punched him in the gut and tried to stuff him down a storm drain. Only problem was that he got stuck. So, am I in trouble, or are there no laws about blocking storm drains... or would those laws apply to him?

It has become quite certain that the Harriet Miers nomination is becoming a huge bane for the Bush presidency. His chances of reelection are now almost nil. But, at the same time, he can't just withdraw the nomination or he'd look weak. So what can he do?

It's a perfect plan. Then he can nominate a more traditional conservative for the bench - one who carries around a club for smashing things he doesn't understand - while all the time lamenting how great Miers would have been for the job. And the public, now feeling bad that Miers got blowed up in a freak auto accident, will start agreeing the Miers was probably a good pick and they were all just being unfair.

Seen this? "Massachusetts dam threatens to flood town." I think we should treat dams the same way we treat terrorists - never give in to their demands. We have to stand strong, no matter how many towns in Massachusetts dams flood... especially since I don't like Massachusetts.

Whores from Europe are lobbying the European Union for the "social rights" enjoyed by most European workers. Reuters says the whores of the International Committee on the Rights of Sex Workers in Europe (ICRSWE) were in Belgium yesterday to urge the EU to impose regulations on pimping in an effort to "curb exploitation and boost prostitutes' willingness to pay tax in return for rights and social protection."

Lefties on both sides of the Atlantic chide Americans for not being comfortable with their sexuality the way Europeans are... It's not that I'm uncomfortable with my sexuality; it's that I'm uncomfortable with this nasty-ass French whore's sexuality:

This pic is of Camille Cabral, the French ICRSWE spokesmodel

I gather the ICRSWE is a union and this "woman" has seniority. A whole LOT of seniority.

Well, this is a good thing. I think the credit goes to all the people out there who didn't murder... or didn't murder as many people as they originally planned. To all those people who decided to punch the person they hate instead of strangling him, to all those who decided on marital counseling instead of murdering his or her spouse for the insurance money, to all those who decided on stamp collecting instead of serial killing - this achievement belongs to you. As for me, last year ranks among my top years of not killing people.

Of course, this low amount of murders might not be a good indicator. What I'm curious about is if there was an increase in attempted murder along with this decline in murder. That would mean that criminals have just gotten too dumb to successfully murder people. So, all this low murder rate could mean is our public schools are failing our children.

Also, many murders each year are from gang members, and the popularity of the "gangsta style" firing - holding the gun sideways to look cool - could have led to gangs being less lethal since you can't hit jack holding the gun like that.

So, the low murder rate could mean one of two things: we've gotten less violent, or we've gotten dumber.

Aren't you glad this idiot isn't in Iraq and Afghanistan, getting American troops killed with touchy-feely humanitarian gestures to cold-blooded killers?

Or better yet, why not put in in charge of a militarized Mexican-American border, handing out blanks to the troops patroling our Southern frontier and passing out water bottles, bus passes, and free cell phones with LULAC and the ACLU on speed-dial?

WARD: "Mister President, the Mexicans are launching rockets from Tijuana into San Diego."
W: "It's just California, Kipper. They didn't vote for me."
KARL: "San Diego's a lot of red in that blue, sir. And they're killing children."
W: "We'd better help my old pal Vicente, then. Release all Mexican nationals in the federal prison systems and return them to Mexico. Then give back all that land we've been occupyin."
CHENEY: "Not the Gadsden Purchase! As Gadsden goes, so does the nation!"
W: Oh, and we'd better upgrade the weapons of the Mexican Police."
WARD: "What about the corrupt officials in their ranks?"
W: "That's their problem to sort out."
WARD: "Yes, sir!"

Would never happen. Instead, Tijuana would be bombed into a blood-and-body parts margarita.

We'll see how long Ward lasts before Sharon finally kicks him out or makes him sit at the kid's table during meals

So, in the news now we have the Iraqi Constitution vote and more Miers controversy and Rove talking to grand juries... ya, know, boring stuff. Still, I will soldier on and come up with a post so funny you'll be like, "Wow! That was funny! Let's empty out our bank accounts and give all the monkey to Frank J."

For those of you who don't know, the Glenn Reynolds aka The Puppy Blender has come out with a new book.

Now, I'm not the kind of person who judges a book by it's cover - especially as Harvey has shown today - the book has no cover! My friends will tell you that I, RWD, do not judge my friends by their looks - even the ugly ones. So, I won't criticize the lack of cover.

Instead of that - I'd like to be one of the first to review this latest "offering" from the "puppy blender" since he hasn't taken the time to "write" a "book".

You can tell a lot about a book by it's amazon descrption. And I'll tell you, this one is telling us a whole bunch of stuff. Stuff, that you may not want to hear..

(cue Halloween Music)

This book is titled "An Army of Davids : How Markets and Technology Empower Ordinary People to Beat Big Media, Big Government, and Other Goliaths.

The first "fact" I'd like to review is that the book costs $16.49!!

How is that bad, you might say. I knew you wouldn't notice, but I, having the valuable insight that can come from drinking lots and lots of beer, am on to something here!! 1649 was the year that Maryland Passed its Toleration ACt. That meant that if you didn't profess your faith in Christ - they would kill you.

This isn't bad as far as laws go - I'm pretty sure it's part of the Governors Swearing In Oath for Utah. in fact, we should double check to make sure this law hasn't expired elsewhere just because it would so tick off the ACLU.

But, do you get it? If we don't profess our faith in Instapundit - who knows what might happen? Death? Dismemberment? No links from his website (P.S. Glenn, please link to us)

(cue scarey Halloween Music)

Anyway - this "book" only gets worse. Although I haven't opened it or read it we can certainly know everthing we need to learn from the title! An Army of Davids? The People? When you have a bunch of David's marching and proclaiming stuff in the name of the "people" then what you have is either a Gay Pride parade or a Move On Rally!! (BTW, wasn't Goliath a "giant of a man")

I'm still really busy at work, but, now, that Superego is done, I'll try to focus on more and better funny from yours truly.

As for Superego, we'll soon have something like an IMAO bookclub meeting where we'll discuss the story. Now, I want to be a novelist and have been part of a writing group, but there is no way I'd show them that story. A lot of its failings had to do with me writing it serially without much of a plan and that my first draft for each part was also the last draft, but I'd like to go into detail in where I think it was lacking (and also what I liked about it and where it had promise). If everyone who read it would join in the critique, that would be great.

If you're all really good, I might even tell you why there's a question mark at the end.

And, for IMAudiO fans, it looks like we'll be getting back into the once a week habit, this time with Wednesday morning releases.

Glenn Reynolds new book "An Army of Davids : How Markets and Technology Empower Ordinary People to Beat Big Media, Big Government, and Other Goliaths" (pithy, no?) is on sale at Amazon.com.. But as you can see, the book's cover art is not available.

Just thought I'd tell you that Sgt. Joe foo' the Marine is now back home in Boise (he arrived Friday night). I talked to him Saturday (first on the phone and then on Skype which he just discovered). Thanks for all the prayers for him.

He may add to upcoming podcasts with his war stories, but no guarantees.

BTW, SarahK is busy on the next podcast. Should be ready on Wednesday.

An EMP blast; that's something I had always prepared for. My blasters, which had just fallen from my limp hands, had dormant backup circuitry that could be manually enabled to give them partial functionality. Also, I had an electronics free revolver in a holster on my right ankle - a simple gunpowder based firearm given to me by my father... probably the same model he just shot me with.

As I dropped to my knees staring at him, I realized exactly what he did. He set off the EMP bomb just as I spun around to catch me off guard. He destroyed the power system in most of the city just to get a clean shot on me face to face.

Experience beat youth, I guess.

The natural inclination is to fall forward, but I leaned my weight so I fell backward, propped up a little so I could keep my eyes on my father. He face more lined than I last seen him, his hair grayer, but no new scars were visible. He lowered his gun. The one bullet he put through me that currently had me leaking at both ends was enough.

"What it means," my father said, referring to Dip's question before the EMP cut him off, "was that Morrigan was given a tip by someone who knows you well." He looked to the dead body beyond me. "I liked her; she had potential... among other things." He smiled. "You were way beyond her league, though, so I thought I'd give her a little information so you didn't gun her down too easily."

"What?"

"I told her that when you winged her way back when you first met, it was only because you meant to wing her. I think that cut through her arrogance and kept her from underestimating you."

"I still got her."

He smiled again. "Of course you did, Rico. But the higher-ups were sending her to her death putting her against you... though neither them nor her knew it. I just tried to even things up a bit even though I was certain who would prevail in the end. That’s why I’m here."

I pressed the wound in my front, but I was still bleeding out the exit wound in my back. I couldn't tell what organs had been hit, but judging from the entry wound in my chest, it was probably organs I needed. So I was dying, which left little time to satisfy my curiosity. "Do they know you're here?"

He stopped smiling. "No. I knew this would happen, but they wouldn't listen to me. They've always been scared of you, but I knew you'd never betray us unless we forced you. Now they thought they could give you what they considered an honorable death, but you made fools of them all. I couldn't save you anymore, so the only thing left to do was clean up their mess."

I laughed, but it hurt. "I guess this could lead to you finally moving higher into leadership."

"Noting personal, Rico. I don't want to profit off the death of my son, but they pushed you to a point that someone had to take you down. Now everyone looks the fool except me." A tear streamed down his eye. "For what it's worth, you always made me proud... being what you are, that is. I knew you'd figure out something was wrong because you're smart, and I thought you deserved to at least know why the people you trusted were turning against you. I also thought you deserved to die being shot in the front, and, well, that sure wasn't an easy thing to do without getting shot back." He smiled weakly. "If they only listened to me, we could have put you to so much better use. Most men have to go through a lot to become remorseless killers, but you were born that way. Tough kid to love, but I tried."

"I was always fed; I didn't know what else to expect," I answered truthfully. I never thought about my childhood much. Spent most of it away from other kids.

"Your mother just couldn't understand you; she loved that dog more than you, but, in her defense, it was capable of showing more affection. At least she wasn't able to hear what you said when you saw her die."

It took me a moment to remember. My brain didn't seem to be reacting well to the loss of blood. "'Who will cook now?' That's what I said."

"You did love her cooking."

"I eat mainly bland foods now." Or should I have used the past tense?

"You never did ask why I killed her."

"I assumed you had your reasons. If it were my business, you would have told me."

He looked sad again. "You always trusted me... trusted the organization. Sorry they didn't return the trust. Sorry it had to end this way."

We were silent. I guess there wasn't anything left to say. Still, someone spoke. There was the cocking of yet another revolver, and a voice saying, "This ending isn't yet written."

My father laughed. "You didn't kill her?" he asked me.

"I tried."

I could see a look of determination on Diane's bruised and battered face as she held the gun on my father. As always, she had no idea what she had gotten herself into.

"Drop the gun!"

"It's a dangerous universe," my father answered, putting the gun away under his jacket, "I think I best keep it."

"You're under arrest!"

My father took out a cigarette and lit it. "For what? I just happened to be in the area and stopped a dangerous murderer. Seems I should be commended."

"You set off an EMP blast, killing who knows how many. You're not walking away from this."

"She's cute; I see why you like her, Rico." He never did turn to look at her.

"Diane!" I shouted, and it hurt quite a bit, "You don't understand! He's a Corloni."

"I gathered," she snapped.

"No, his name is Anthony Corloni," I said, struggling to prop myself up further, though the energy was draining from me.

"It's true," he laughed, "I think I might have a blood relation with those suspected criminal leaders of that crime syndicate."

"You arrest him," I warned her, "and they'll slaughter everyone on this planet just to make an example out of it. I know you want to stop the criminal syndicates, but you're aiming too high at this juncture."

"He cares about you, girl," my father told Diane, "So why don't you tend to his last moments here in this universe. Now, I'm off to go work on some completely legal enterprises." He began to walk away, Diane still pointing her gun at him. Before going fully out of my view, he turned and said to me, "See ya in hell, Rico."

"See ya."

Diane put her gun and ran over to me. "Okay, I have to stop the bleeding." She said frantically.

"I've shot enough people to know when a man is dead," I told her, "No hospital to take me to, what with that EMP blast. Plus no vehicle to get me there. The EMP would have disabled the car behind me. How'd you get here anyway?"

"I landed through the destroyed roof of the auditorium. I guess that vehicle won't be working either." I could see she was mulling over a tough decision. She then quickly took off her jacket and then pulled off her shirt, leaving her torso covered by just her bra. She then began to rip up her shirt to make bandages.

"Thanks for the treat," I laughed. That hurt too. I could clearly see the bruises on her face. After my little speech trying to throw her beliefs back in her face, I pulled the trigger and nothing happened. Apparently in the scuffle, I forgot to remove the safety, something I do automatically on a normal draw. She gave this little smile, and that was too much. I was so enraged, I slammed her in the head with the gun – I normally don’t treat my guns like that. Now that she was unconscious, I couldn't make her despair, thus killing her lost its point.

"Just save your breath and concentrate on staying awake," Diane said as she struggled to bandage me.

"I'm glad I didn't kill you, ya know," I told her. My vision was blurring, and I knew I was reaching the end. "I think I should tell you I'm attracted to you... and I'm not just saying that because you're nearly naked right now. I mean, because of other things than just your woman features. I know women get insecure about that sort of thing, so I thought I'd tell you." As it was getting harder for me to think, I was left to reacting off emotions, and Lord knows I don't have many of those to work with.

"Just be quiet, Rico," she said, her voice breaking up. It was hard to see, but I could make out tears in her eyes. "You need to fight this."

"I'm going to hell, now, right?" I asked, "Not much doubt in that. No reason God would give extra to help to save me when so many less deserving people got killed today."

"You still have time, Rico. Keep fighting." It was harder to see her, but her voice was breaking up more than mine.

I think she was still working on my bandages. All I could make out was her crying. So many died today, and not just criminals now that an EMP bomb had gone off. But here she was, wasting her tears on perhaps the most murderous psychopath in the universe. Of all the people to care about, this her Christian "sensibilities" were making her waste her good sense mourning the most prodigal son who was never coming home... never would have even if he had life left in him.

The Doctor is in - and I can help. Or at least make it not hurt so much. Or at least entertain you while you howl in agony. That's it!

Anway, this Friday we had so many IMAO readers who needed help and guidance from someone older and wiser. Instead - you came to Dr. Duck. How flattering. Here are some answers for the questions that haunt you night and day.

**

How will I be able to cope when Superego is finished? Will there be a sequel?
Posted by Veeshir

Coping with loss is never an easy thing to do. Some turn to alcohol. Others to drugs or other extreme behavior. In fact, I believe that would be my suggestion too. Drinking – drugs – and extreme behavior – or as much as your budget allows.

But being that Frank J. and I are really good friends I sent him an email asking about any possible sequels. Here's his response:

"Dear Put Your Name Here,
I'm not answering my email these days because the Mexican I hired has been without a computer for a month. So write back later and I'll answer if I feel like it."

There you have it!! It sound like the answer is Yes!

**
Dr. Duck,
My left thumb just got torn off in a paper shredder. Would you suggest I go see a doctor? Burning it with my lighter seems to have stopped the bleeding.
Posted by Junglejake

Dear JJ.

I know what you’re thinking. “I chopped off my thumb? Woohoo! I’m going to Wendy’s”. But before you decide to turn tragedy into a happy meal – let me share something personal with you.

I too once had opposable digits – then I realized that they were opposing me only on the basis of my skin color. So I chopped them off those little racist thumbs!! I don’t misss them muc. Exepct when typin.

You can go ahead and see a doctor – but my experience is that they’re not good at handling racism. I suggest you try Jess or Al. They might be able to help. Or at least start a riot. That should make you feel better.

**
Whooooo are you?
Whoo-ooo, ooo-ooo?
I really wanna know...
Also, what kind of bloody violence is most appropriat to use on smelly hippies.
Fisticuffs is out, because one ends up with stinky fists.
Posted by jimmyb at October 14, 2005 11:26 AM

Jimmy B.

Whooo am I? I’m the one who put the ram in the rama lama ding dong.

Anyway. Hippie violence is a good form of exercise and Dr. Duck heartily endorses it. I like to use a Clue Bat, myself. When I hippy says that war is not the answer – I clock him upside the head. They usually get up angry and wanting to fight. I remind them that violence is never the answer. Then when they agree – I clock them again. It’s cliché – but maybe that’s what makes it so much fun.
**

I just posted and it didn't take, so here goes again.
Welcome back Dr. Ducky!
If micheal Moore was popped what would come out?
Posted by Steve

Ding Dongs?

As an aside – when you think you’ve done something already and you may not have – that’s a sure sign of insanity.

**
Being a fine upstanding American, I have a "Support Our Troops" magnetic ribbon on the back of my Ford. Now, the rank-ing hippie at work has retaliated with a "Just Pretend It's All OK" ribbon on his Volvo.
What should my next move be? I feel the need to escalate, but (for the children) I don't want to do jail time.
Help me Dr. Duck - you're my only hope.
Posted by Magneto

Ding dongs.

Oh, wait. Did I say that already?

Wow. This looks like it’s ripe for a bumper sticker contest. In fact – that’s what we’ll do only because it would mean less work for me – and of course I’d give you the group discount rate.

**
Dear the Honorable Dr. Duck,
The Arizona Daily Wildcat's letters section is so whiny, I can't take it anymore. Is it morally correct to become a paid columnist for such a liberal claptrap, or should I resort to other options?
Garrett O'Hara
Posted by Garrett O'Hara

I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Your whining was getting on my nerves. Huh? Oh, so you want to write for a liberal paper? Ask yourself this – would you be happy with all those Red loving yellow bellies – if the money was green?

Since we now know that Mark Cuban supports terrorism, will the left finally admit that the majority of rich, arrogant jerks aren't conservative?
Posted by Alucard

A rich, stupid imbecile? The only surprise is that he hasn't starred in a movie. Hmm. Maybe that would explain it.

**

I hears "Hola" is a swear word in ancient Aramic. Is this true? If so, how true is it?
Posted by Frank J. at October 14, 2005 01:07 PM

What kind of @ss-Hola question is that? Nope, I can’t think of any context where it would be a bad thing.

**
A UFO has
appeared
over me
and a voice
Sounding Like
Louis Farrakan
becones me
to
get in
should I?
Posted by Libby Gone™

On the one hand, you shouldn’t ride with crazy Islamic activists. On the other hand – have you seen the price of gas?

**

will Dr. Duck check the bboard?
Posted by sarahk

Nag. Nag. Nag. You’ll make somebody a great wife one day.

**
1. Dr. Duck , are you by any chance related to the AFLAC duck of commercial fame?
2. I understand that Aquaman is making an appearance on Smallville next week. Is this some kind of liberal plot?
Posted by kalthalior

Little known fact. For the first two years, the AFLAC duck was a duck costume worn by Tom Cruise. They fired him for preaching about the falsity of Duck Psychologists. As if!!!

Yes, Aquaman is making an appearance on the set of Smallville, but they’ve decided to start buying Aquaman safe tuna.

**
Yeah, what's up with Aflac? Does that duck have a stunt double? Or should PETA be involved?
I seen feathers flyin', and duck soup ain't mama's recipe.
Posted by Art Van Dolay at October 14, 2005 02:26 PM

Don’t be silly. PETA does all of the contract killing. Or as they call them – Animal shelters. Anyway, Mr. Cruise – I mean, the AFLAC duck is fine and doing well. In fact, the AFLAC duck would like readers to know that he and his duck wife are expecting, and that they did do the Wild Thing lest people speculate further that he … well, you know.

**
The guy next to me just got a new huge plasma display computer screens. Me, I still have my smaller, but fully functional CRT. I think he's trying to compensate for something. What do you think?
Posted by Special Ed

**
Dr. Duck - You can't duc....avoid the question forever. Does Frank J. REALLY hate monkeys or is he just pandering to the anti-monkey wing of the VRWC? Us potential minions deserve an answer, are we following a true anti-monkeyist or when he takes over will he pull a Souter and let the monkeys takeover? Also am I right in thinking that "monkey", in the context of IMAO is really a code word for Hippy?
Posted by Brian

I can only say that I’ve known Frank J. for over a year now and that I can vouch for – for – hey, he really DOES seem to like monkeys, doesn’t he?

**
Dr. Ducky.
I'm thinking of venturing out in pulic again. Should I wear a hat? or pants?
Posted by spacemonkey at October 14, 2005 05:19 PM

Pulic, California is a great place to visit. No pants are necessary.

**
Mr. Duck:
I need to know where pulic is. I want to avoid that place so I'm not forced to witness a pantless spacemonkey.
Posted by Jim Parkinson

Pulic is in Southern California just outside of Crabs County.

**
I am having ladies' night on my blog. Will there be high female traffic?
Posted by Damian G.

Yes, but remember, it means 2 for 1. So even if you doubled your traffic, you probably still wouldn’t get anybody’s phone number.

**

Dear Dr. Duck,
What are the odds that in the confirmation hearings of Harriet Miers, Ted Kennedy WON'T bring up Roe v. Wade?
I know, I know... Ducks prefer to paddle.
Posted by SeanS

Clerk: Would you like to supersize that? Just 39 cents extra. Your choice.

Ted: I will always defend a woman’s right to choose!! Can I get a side order of quarter pounder?

**
Dr. Duck,
Why does the poopy smell bad?
Posted by Army NCO Guy

What? This is the first I’ve ever heard of it. Are you sure? Sniff closer. Closer. That’s right – get. Really. Really….. (let’s cut away – this could get ugly)

**
Dear Dr. Duck,
Did you post this blog just to see how many fanatical readers would ask questions? I smell something fishy... errr... ducky about this whole thing...
Will I win the Powerball Jackpot? Had to ask... maybe you are psychic... psycho?
Enough ramblings....
Posted by Amer-I-Can

Great Question America A Okay – or whatever your name is. I almost forgot I had posted this stuff, so – in a way… what was the question? Oh yea. 23 posters. Not bad!

Yes, you will win the powerball. In fact, my psychic powers tell me you won LAST week. You didn’t buy a ticket. You should have asked me sooner.

**

Thanks all for submitting your questions. Until next week, remember - I'm not a real doctor - I just play one on IMAO.us!!

Welcome to Fun Facts About the 50 States. I'm your host, Harvey, and - week by week - I'll be taking you on a tour around this great nation of ours, providing you with interesting yet completely useless and probably untrue, information about each of the 50 states.

This week, it's time to fire up the ol' combine, because we're headed out to Iowa, so let's get started...

Iowa became the 29th state on December 28th, 1846, after Congress finally persuaded the state to change its name from "Corntopia".

The state flag of Iowa consists of three vertical stripes of blue, white, and red, much like the French flag. To prevent confusion, the white section of Iowa's flag contains the international symbol for "No Surrender Monkeys".

The state bird of Iowa is the goldfinch, which should not be confused with any criminal masterminds who tried to kill James Bond.

Iowa contains exactly 99 counties. The legendary "lost 100th county" is currently being sought by a ragtag band of spaceships fleeing from the evil Cylon Empire.

Geographically, Iowa is one of the flattest states in the US, but it IS considering getting implants so that South Dakota will FINALLY pay attention to it.

Iowa was nicknamed the "Hawkeye State" after the popular deep-fried delicacy served in most of the state's taverns.

The 31st president of the US - Herbert Hoover - was born in West Branch, Iowa. The Hoover Dam was named in his honor, since its construction was made possible by his invention of the concrete beaver.

The state song of Iowa is "Corn! Corn! Corn!", which consists entirely of people singing the word "corn" for 5 minutes, and was the inspiration for Monthy Python's "Spam" sketch.

The state tree of Iowa is the oak tree, because... well, they had to choose SOMETHING, and since corn doesn't grow on trees, they figured acorns were close enough.

Burlington, Iowa is home to Snake Alley, the crookedest street in America, which rates an impressive 9.5 on the Kofi Annan crookedness scale.

Strawberry Point, Iowa is home to the world's largest strawberry. It's 10 feet tall, weighs 500 pounds, and subsists on a diet of migrant farm workers.

The world's smallest city park is in Hiteman, Iowa, and consists of a single blade of grass growing through a crack in the sidewalk.

And yes, keeping it mowed IS a union job. How did you guess?

Iowa has more people of Norwegian extraction than it does black people, which is why pickled herring is sold at basketball games.

Or WOULD be, if Iowa had enough black people to put together an NBA team.

You know that team that the Harlem Globetrotters always beat in exhibition games? They're all from Iowa.

Crystal Lake, Iowa has a statue of the world's largest bullhead fish, which was finally caught in 1982 by a hockey-mask-wearing serial killer.

Kalona, Iowa is the largest Amish settlement west of the Mississippi. It was founded in 1858 by ultraconservative Amish who were sick of those Pennsylvania harlots shamelessly flaunting their naked wrists.

Cedar Rapids, Iowa is home to the world's largest breakfast cereal company - Quaker Oats - which also makes other funny-hat-wearing, religion-related cereals, like Islam Puffs, Jew Chex, and Pope-ee-o's.

In Scrabble, Iowa is worth 7 points, which, coincidentally, is the same number of points awarded for running down a pedestrian while playing Grand Theft Auto: Des Moines.

Dubuque, Iowa is frequently the site of violent turf wars between rival gangs of Hicks and Bumpkins.

Johnny Carson was born in Corning, Iowa in 1925. Had he been born 50 years later, his homely face and mediocre comedic talent would've prevented any career in the entertainment industry, except for maybe IMAO Podcaster.

Native Iowans are easily identifiable by their unique ability to actually locate Iowa on a map.

Iowa has a population of nearly 3 million people, all of whom will punch you right in the freakin' nose if you tell one more stupid corn joke.

The state vegetable of Iowa is corn, which [punching sound effect] OW! MY FREAKIN' NOSE!

Well, that wraps up the Iowa edition of Fun Facts About the 50 States. Next week I'll be stealing some ruby slippers & riding a cyclone to Kansas.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go put some ice on my freakin' nose... ow...
______________

When the world's richest man comes to your college and in effect says: "Hurry up you students and get your doctorates in computer science so I can hire you to work for me at my company," why didn't anyone in the audience say: "No thanks. I'd rather drop out of college like you did and start my own business. You can't stay the world's richest man forever, dude."

I guess when you're a billionaire, not even your best friends from when you were an idealistic youth will tell you when do something that exposes you as a complete hypocrite...

I'm sure even if your friends called you on it, you'd probably sneer, correct them on the fact that you're a billionaire hypocrite, and remind them to pick up your dry cleaning.

If you want to pick up some free audio funny for your Friday, check out the complete Pure Idiom MP3 starring Laurence Simon as Tinkerbell, the talking cat:

Don't be afraid to share, except for the dirty pictures - this is a family site - meaning we only talk about bloody violence.

Dr. Duck is back and ready to answer the questions that keep you up late at night, or at least, get stuck in between the back molars - I HATE when that happens, don't you?

So, go ahead and post those questions in comments. Remember, I'm not a real Doctor, but address me as Dr. Duck. As in all media, if you say something often enough, it must be true.

Disclaimer: Dr. Duck is only a silly IMAO bit. Anyone taking his advice seriously should either consider therapy, or voting Democrat. No animals were harmed in the making of this column. There is no proven scientific relationship between Ducky and the Avian flu which President Bush created to destroy duck kind. President Bush hates ducks. If you are any of your Instant Messaging force should be caught - we will disavow any knowledge of your actions - but will taunt you mercilessly forever, or until we get distracted by something else.

If you're not sure how this absurd scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that "political humor" thing, it doesn't. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume that Piper is... um...

Help me out here. Make your suggestions in the comments how this scene is, in fact, a political allegory.

The analysis from movie industry watchers at Box Office Mojo notes that Serenity cost $39 million to produce, has earned $18 million in it's first two weeks (losing half it's audience after the opening weekend) and is on track to rake in only $28 million in total box office. This has got to be a shock for the movie studio, who was undoubtedly told that the movie's fan base was passionate about the TV show upon which this movie was based.

Over the next few years the studio will make back their money and then some in DVD sales and TV rights. For that they can thank fans like the anonymous man in Washington... a fan with plenty of disposable income and the passion for a product so great he was willing to spend a huge chunk of money on that single brand name of quality entertainment he was so passionate about.

The transport crashing through the building had upturned dust throughout the building. All I needed was to see a silhouettes, though, as I was the only one who had no need to identify a target before firing. I killed three as soon as I emerged from the backroom. There was some firing back at me. It was panic fire, but it allowed me to identify the direction of some more targets and rack up a few more kills.

If the terrorists had followed their plans correctly, their crash should have blocked the main entrance. Dip should now have set off the building’s anti-terrorism defenses blocking off all the windows and other exits.

The Randatti thought they were going to ambush the Corloni. The Corloni thought they were ambushing the Randatti. The Cyber-Islamist thought they were ambushing unarmed citizens. Instead, they were all trapped inside here with me.

And I was easy to identify, because I was the only one with a big smile on his face.

"Dip, put my voice over the building's speakers at as high as the volume goes... and echo it if you can."

The dust still hadn't settled, but I had the building plan memorized and made my way towards the main auditorium quickly. In the confusion, the gunfire had died down a bit as everyone was probably more focused on escaping rather than killing each other.

I'd change that.

"JUDGMENT DAY IS HERE! PREPARE FOR THE FIRES OF HELL BECAUSE NO ONE IS ESCAPING THIS BUILDING ALIVE!"

It takes a lot to scare professional killers, but I was up for the challenge.

I came upon another group, and made quick work of them before they could tell what was happening. I then got to the main auditorium, and there was nothing there but targets.

My smile grew even wider.

"I AM THE ANGEL OF DEATH!" The dust was settling and they were fighting each other, but most turned their attention to me as soon as I ran in shooting using my split brain to take on two targets at a time. "I AM GOD'S WRATH!" I killed a group of hitmen. "THE WICKED SHALL NOW MEET THEIR END!" The terrorists, the most panicked of the lot, fired on me without an ounce of accuracy. I swept the auditorium clean of them. "DEATH TO THE FOLLOWERS OF SATAN!" A bolt flew past my face, and I spun around and returned many more at another group of hitmen. "JUSTICE IS HERE, AND IT WILL FIND YOU ALL!"

This was too much fun. It really was luck that some random shot didn't hit me in all the panic fire, but I've survived on luck before. Maybe there is a God and He likes me.

The auditorium was soon clear, and it seemed most everyone had retreated to the hallways and other rooms of the auditorium to try and hole up and make a defense. A bit more of a challenge, but they were still in my trap and no the other way around.

"YOU COWARDS MAY TRY AND FLEE, BUT ATTEMPING TO ESCAPE ME ONLY INCREASES MY TERRIBLE WRATH!"

I entered a hallway and saw a closed door. I fired a few shots into it and got a number back in response. This is where my professional skills kicked in as I used my hearing and the observation of the angle of the shots to determine how many were in the room and where so my next shots were more lethal. A few terrorists came down at me through the hallway, and I shot them with one gun while my other gun fired into the room. I then kicked open the door and killed the two inside left living.

"DAMNED BE THE ARROGANT, FOR THEIRS IS THE FIRES OF HELL!"

A group sprung out of a door and tried to ambush me, but they were two slow and were soon burning bodies on the ground.

"DAMNED BE THE WICKED, FOR THEY SHALL MEET ETERNAL AGONY!"

I entered into a kitchen area where thugs tried to fire from cover, but none of it stood up to my blasters. It smelled liked burned chicken in there when I was done. All sentient species smell like burned chicken when you blast them.

"DAMNED BE THE PERSECUTORS, FOR THEY SHALL A THOUSANDS TIMES REAP WHAT THEY SOWED!"

Now terrorists and hitmen rushed me at the same time. It was nice to know I could unite such diverse groups. They died together as well.

"DAMNED BE THE VIOLENT, FOR THEY SHALL OBTAIN VIOLENCE!"

Some thugs were trying to blast their way out of a sealed window, and turned just in time to see the instrument of their death.

"DAMNED BE THE EVIL IN HEART, FOR THEY SHALL SEE ME!"

Those left seemed to be firing at any sound, even taking out some of the speakers. They only gave themselves away in their actions, and I wiped the universe clean of them.

"DAMNED BE THE WARMONGERS, FOR THEY ARE THE CHILDREN OF SATAN!"

"God is great!" was what I universal translator interpreted as the shouts of a few terrorists as they fired on me, but apparently their god wasn't great enough to give them basic aiming skills. My blasters tore them apart.

"Die, you freak!" shouted a female voice, and I finally met a concerted enough effort to kill me that I had to duck into another hallway for cover. It was some of Morrigan’s group, and they apparently knew how to work as a team.

I laughed, and my broadcast laughter echoed throughout the building.

"DAMNED BE THE WHORES, BECAUSE I AM GOING TO @#$% THEM UP!"

There was some shouting and gunfire from behind them as apparently some of the Cyber-Islamists and run into them. This was enough of a distraction for me to jump and charge them, gunning them all down as they tried to fire upon me. It was at least a dozen, but not one landed a shot.

I was invincible.

There was only a little clean up left, and soon the only thing in the building other than me was the smell of death. Satisfied, I headed back towards the room that held Gredler's corpse and the path to the escape vehicle. I hit a few buttons on my wrist console telling Dip to stop broadcasting my voice. "What's the situation outside?" I asked him.

"There was some fighting outside of the building between who I assume was Randatti and Corloni hitmen, but it looks like they have left. The police seemed to have stayed away."

I headed for the rear door in the backroom, stepping over Gredler's corpse. It led to a hallway ending at a small landing pad. The sky was currently blocked by a metal shield. "Unlock the place, Dip. I'll meet you on the other side of the planet and then we take a nice vacation." I smiled. "We'll have to go many galaxies away to find a place where they won't be saying the name 'Rico' in hushed whispers after this."

As the metal shield folded away, the sun began to shine through. I headed for the vehicle waiting there, but stopped just before walking onto the landing pad. I realized my guard was down, and now would be the perfect time to kill me if someone was smart.

I fired into the overhang to the exit onto the landing pad. The smoldering body of Morrigan then fell to the ground.

"What was that?" Dip asked.

"Morrigan - the redhead. She actually assumed I would survive and waited for me at the escape to shoot me in the back. That's smarter than I thought she'd be. Almost had me, really."

"Does that mean anything?"

"Mean anything? Why would it..." I stopped suddenly as I heard footsteps behind me, so loud it was like I was supposed to hear them. I instantly spun around and pulled the triggers on both my guns at the person.

Nothing happened. I was now staring down a metal gun barrel, and I noticed that all the lights in the hallway were now out. As I stood there with two useless weights in my hand, I heard the distinct sound of a double action trigger on a revolver. It seemed to happen in slow motion, but, in reality, it was too quick for me to do anything. There was the rotating of the cylinder as the hammer pulled back, the click of the cylinder locking into place, and the fall of the hammer. Last came the sound of the bullet being fired, the explosion of it an exclamation point in what had just been marked the last chapter of my life.

The next exciting installment of Superego will be posted later this afternoon. I expect it will make a lot of people mad, but I have to work what should be a three-day weekend, so I'll just be mad right back.

Okay, I ain't thrilled by the Harriet Miers pick for the Supreme Court, but I have to disagree with a lot of the conservative critics out there. They talk about her not having distinguished qualifications, and that just means they are falling into the trap of making the job of a Supreme Court seem more complex than it is.

So what is the job of a Supreme Court Justice? It's to interpret the Constitution. And what is the Constitution?

A FOUR PAGE DOCUMENT!

Think about it: the job of a Supreme Court Justice - his only job for his entire life - is to understand four pages of text. Why do you even need a legal degree for this? I'm not even sure you need a high school diploma. The two times I took the SATs, I got a 770 out of 800 on the verbal. One of those times, I got every single reading comprehension question right. I think that more than qualifies me to be an excellent Supreme Court Justice. In fact, I might be too qualified.

Really, if you look at it, this job is just barely too difficult to have a Chimp do it. It ranks slightly higher in complexity than the guy who rips your ticket in two when you enter the cinema complex and tells you what theater to go to.

Four pages, people. And it's your only job to understand them. For most people, that would take less than an hour, but, as a Supreme Court Justice, you have your entire life.

Okay, it's slightly more complex than that as there are like twenty-seven Amendments (none of them very long) and some of the S's in the document look like F's, but this ain't brain surgery people. It's not even taking someone's blood pressure.

But, people have to act like it's so much more complicated than that. There's a big academic debate out there whether the Constitution gives an individual or collective right to bear arms, but the average citizen is completely unaware of that debate. Most know there is an individual right to bear arms because THAT'S WHAT THE DOCUMENT SAYS. Really, a level-headed twelve-year-old could do a better job than some of the academic pinheads now serving. And the President could appoint a twelve year-old (if you don't believe me, read the Constitution - it's only four pages!).

And, no, I don't want the job. I spent four years in college learning digital circuitry, and thus I find the simplistic job of a Supreme Court Justice beneath me. If you want a new pick, I'd say check the fry cooks at the local McDonalds. Just don't take one from the McDonalds next to my house, because it's already understaffed. Actually, if Souter quit his current job and worked there, he'd being doing a lot more good for his country.

Acidman is dying. I'm not sure what to say to that. Maybe "Don't die," but he probably wouldn't listen to me.

I honestly hadn't read his blog in a while, but I guess it's time to catch up. I'd go on about my opinion of Acidman, but then this would sound like an obituary. And, well, he's still blogging, so it ain't time for that.

While I admit that sounds like fun, I can't help but think there's gotta be another way to have a good time.

So, being from Wisconsin, which - except for the Socialists in Milwaukee and the Commies in Madison - is mostly rural and sane, I think the terrorists should take a page from the Big Book of Country Charm and celebrate it more along the lines of a County Fair.

Because fairs are fun!

First you set up a huge, inflatable mascot at the entrance so everyone can find the place easily:

"Perhaps because you don't have much experience dealing with it, Rico."

I trekked through the busy streets towards the convention center. If everyone had their orders right, no one would try and start the festivities before I got there. Still, I kept my eyes peeled in case one fool wanted the glory of killing me.

"How are you?" Dip asked.

"A little battered, but I'll be fine." I laughed. "I think she was trying to save me, but her knocking my head around could end up being the death of me if it affects my combat. Now, that's irony."

"I have a few inquiries."

"Since this may be the last time we talk, I will answer one question for you conclusively, Dip. So chose carefully."

I suspected what that question would be, but I wasn't quite right.

"Do you think you're evil, Rico?"

"No," I answered immediately. I then thought on it for a moment. "But I'm probably wrong."

"I don't think you're evil."

"You don't think at all, Dip; you're a computer program."

"It was just an expression."

"You ready on your end?"

"I am, Rico. Are you ready?"

"More than ready." In fact, I was more excited than I ever remembered. I guess it was bloodlust. I'd have to keep my emotions neutral, though, if I wanted to survive this.

Do I want to survive?

Doubt. I didn't usually have that, but now I was questioning myself. It was like having my own Diane living inside my head. I guess that's what a conscience is. Well, I didn't have time for it, so I kept focusing on the plan and trudged on towards my destination.

"Rico, Diane did give me a way to try and clear the civilians before the violence takes place. Would you like me to implement it when the time comes?"

"Will it interfere with my plans any?"

"Doubtful. There isn't much to it."

"Then do it. Let's keep this fight between us bad people."

The convention center was packed with sentients waiting for the great Galactic Senator to speak about the uniting of the world and species to a common cause. I didn't know how many there were hitmen just waiting for the signal, but it would become quite obvious in a few minutes.

I headed to a back room where Gredler was waiting. He was surrounded by armed guards, Randatti thugs in Galactic Alliance garb from the look of their weapons.

"You're late."

"I don't remember giving a time I would show up." I casually looked to the door in the read of the room which was Gredler's escape path. That might be important later. I then took a quiet inventory of the rest of the room. Eight thugs ready for battle and one Senator. "I'd like to get in a few shots myself if that's okay. Otherwise, I'll take my money and be off."

"We can handle this ourselves," the Senator answered. I could have asked why he asked for me to be here then, but I knew the answer was to kill me. It was the smart thing to do.

"Implementing crowd control," Dip said in my ear, "I'll indicate when the main phase is about to start."

"DO NOT PANIC!" screamed the loudspeakers, "THERE IS A BOMB IN THE BUILDING! PLEASE EVACUATE IN AN ORDERLY MANNER!"

Despite the warnings, there were screams of panic. I could see on a monitor that most were fleeing the main auditorium.

But some stayed.

"What's happening?" the Senator demanded.

"I'm clearing out the civilians," I answered.

"That's losing us our cover!"

I laughed. "It will still be plenty crowded here." I looked to the monitors and saw there were a lot who stayed... including a number of females (guess who they were with). "The Corloni and the Randatti are waiting for your speech; are you going to give it?"

"I'm getting out of here!" the Senator announced.

"It's time." Dip announced to me.

I locked the doors behind me. "Not so fast, Gredler. You have your plans, but I have mine."

"And what does that mean?" Gredler looked scared, and the thugs looked ready to kill me.

"I've never failed to finish a job I've been hired for."

I drew my two blasters and fired on Gredler's guards, standing my ground the whole time. Only one got off an unaimed shot. It may have been my fastest shooting ever.

Gredler looked stunned... and it was stunning. "I can pay you whatever..."

"Not this time."

One trigger pull, and one Galactic Senator's head was removed. I took Niko out of my pocket, and the little spider robot went to confirm the kill.

"Dip, are you getting the information?"

"Have it."

"Broadcast on all frequencies and get my next statement on the loudspeakers."

I could hear a commotion outside, and the door rattled as people tried to open it.

I cleared my throat.

"This is Rico. Interested members of the Corloni crime syndicate, you should now all have confirmation that Senator Gredler is dead. Though the day of the speech was changed, I have killed him on that day in what is now a very public manner. As far as I am concerned, I have fulfilled my end. Instead of the usual monetary payment, I'm now going to extract a payment of my own.

"Interested members of the Randatti crime syndicate, I'm going to kill you all, too. Nothing personal, it just seems like it will be fun.

"Once again, this is Rico. If you survive today, best you remember that name."

Those outside were now firing on the door. I could see in the monitor that everyone in the auditorium had drawn guns and were trying to see who around were allies and who were enemies.

I closed my eyes and held my guns at my side feeling their lovely weight and the caress of their soft grips molded to my hands. I felt complete. To me, this was spiritual. My nirvana was the chaos that awaited.

There was a tremendous crash, almost like a moon had collided into the building. The place shook so much, I about lost my balance. The monitor was still working, and I could see that a giant transport had landed right in the middle of the auditorium, crashing through the ceiling. Islamic terrorists began spilling out of it shouting and firing, surprised to find that everyone left standing was armed and firing back. Dip had done it; he had decoded the information I gave him and found the terrorist plans... and then he "helped" them pull it off by passing them the information on the convention center Gredler gave me.

There was now a huge cacophony of gunfire and shouting outside, and I was already forgotten about. I couldn't let that stand; this was my game, after all.

Click on the picture to see the full leaflet and find out why fish are smart!

It's people with a stupid view and acting on it, but I can't be any funnier than they are themselves. This is beyond parody. It's absolutely hilarious, and I can't improve on it.

PETA says they're only going to give this to teenagers and adults, but the wording of it is obviously made to scare children (the leaflet ends with "Until your daddy learns that it's not 'fun' to kill, keep your doggies and kitties away from him. He's so hooked on killing defenseless animals that they could be next!"). Yet it's so hard handed and idiotic, I can't get angry at it. It just makes it funnier.

BTW, I could imagine being a little kid and telling my dad to stop killing fish and what his response would be:

"Well, if I don't kill fish, I guess the only thing left for me to kill is... YOU!

Shouldn't liberals be offended by this? It is pretty sexist. Women can fish, too. I mean, I never seen it, but I believe it is physically possible. My mother even has a fishing license... though only so my dad can drag her out into the middle of nowhere (and there are plenty of nowheres in Idaho to find the middle of) at four in the morning and catch twice the legal limit.

Oh! I have an idea on how to make this funnier! Have the comic end with Aquaman beating up the father.

Yeah, I still got it.

(hat tip to RightWingNews which has a link to PETA's first comic: Mommy Kills Animals!)

A) It has become abundantly clear that the United States invaded Iraq for the wrong reasons. No link has been established between Saddam Hussein and the terrorists responsible for the Sept. 11 attacks. No weapons of mass destruction have been located inside Iraq.

B) More US soldiers have died in Iraq since George Bush declared an end to the war on 1 May 2003 prompting the question: Will Iraq turn into a new Vietnam eventually bringing the US to its senses ... or perhaps to its knees?

C) US and British occupation of Iraq is regarded as the re-emergence of the old colonialist practices of the western empires in some quarters.

I came to my feet with a strong uppercut. Diane blocked it, but it also knocked her back a bit. I then reached for one of my guns on the nightstand. Just as I pulled it out of the holster, a heel came down on my hand and the gun clattered to the ground. A hook punch then caught me in the side of the head, knocking me down again. I rolled back to my feet, and there I stood facing her and a blaster lying between the two of us.

My face was stinging and my vision was slightly blurred. Diane didn't have much girth, but she knew how to put it behind a punch. Someone three times her size probably couldn't have hit me as hard. She was a dangerous girl, all right, but as soon as I got my hand back on my gun that would be it for her.

She pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "I'm not going to let this happen, Rico. The only one who believes he is powerless to stop any of this is you."

I swung at her, and she ducked and got me in the gut. There was another huge shot of pain through my body. This was where a normal person would panic and fight more frantically, but I do not panic. I stay focused. That's why I live and others die.

I kept throwing punches at her. She kept slipping in a blow her and there, but I shirked it off and didn't let her capitalize on it. When it came down to it, I work out everyday and have a Y chromosone. She couldn't hold up to my strength, and started to panic herself. I finally landed a solid blow to her body, and she awkwardly tried to get in close and do a limb lock. I then got a glancing strike to her head. It stunned her long enough for me to heft her into the air and throw her with all my might against the opposite wall.

She slumped to the ground, a dent above her. I then casually picked up the blaster off the ground and pointed it at her as she moaned and tried to get back to her feet.

"This is how it ends, Diane!" I shouted at her as I walked closer, the barrel pointed at her wide eyes. "No magical Jesus is going to come fly in and save you! Your whole life ends as just another kill for a mass murderer, and it will be but a side note to the slaughter today! I tried to help you see a little reason, but you had to antagonize the psychopath! Any last words?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but I went ahead and pulled the trigger.

I am, like many, in a quite a dilemma over Harriet Miers. She's really quite the riddle.

I don't know who she is. Then again, I can't recall ever hearing of George W. Bush before 1999 either.

But back to Ms. Miers.

I don't know her opinion on a lot of things.

I don't know how she likes her coffee. What is her paper/plastic preference. On the subject of toothpaste: does she roll? Does she squeeze? Does she have toothpaste in one of those fancy pumps?

The topic of her pizza topping preferences is a total mystery to me and potentially may always be. That is, of course, assuming I don't hire some sort of private investigater to find these sorts of things out.

Is she Hell's hand-old-maid-en. Is she Lady Liberty's unmarried aunt that no one ever talks about?

She might just be the uberwomensch of conservative juris prudence or she might just turn out to be Souter II or possibly another Sandra Day O'Communist.

But then again maybe what we know won't hurt us. Or perhaps, ignorance IS bliss. OR as my old friend G.I. Joe used to say if "knowing is half the battle" perhaps not knowing is the other half of the battle?

"Is that what this is about?" Bush said with surprise, "What's wrong with her?"

"I appreciate the cronyism," Cheney answered, "but why in the world would you pick her out of all the possible choices in the entire country?"

"Because everyone is worried I'd pick a Souter like my father," Bush replied, "and I've learned from the mistakes of my father such as make sure you finish the war in Iraq and don’t be not reelected. So, I picked someone I know who isn't going to be a surprise when she gets in the Court. And I know... uh... what's-her-face, and respect her judgment. Every time she sees me, she compliments my tie... and even ties that one time I accidentally wore two at once. That’s who I want on the court!"

Most sane people figured this out 25 years ago, but finally the U.N. got the memo that Smurfs are up to no good and bombed their sorry blue butts:

These subhuman creatures live in a patriarical society ruled by a quasi-religious dictator with a beard, they devalue the lone female in the town by forcing her to care for the children (a career-killing move for any upwardly mobile young woman), and they hate cats... and that really pissed off Laurence Simon. To top it off, they are somehow related to Belgium.

Oh, wait. Now I'm getting word that this is actually an anti-war campaign funded by the UN to shame George W. Bush for personally toppling brutal Arab dictatorships and make Americans feel guilty for cutting off Kojo Anan's multimillion dollar per year gig moonlighting for Baathist Iraq's oil merchants.

Yep, after seeing the devastation of the Smurfs, I can't help feeling smurfy. George W. Bush is so smurfing bad, I just smurfed myself.

Contrary to the ill-informed "Third" commenter, I am still involved with the IMAO Podcast (or IMAudiO if you prefer). However, due to time constraints, I will not be doing the equivalent work of five full-time employees (talent director, scriptwriter, sound designer, primary voice talent, and promotions director) to produce the IMAO Podcast on a weekly basis.

For the IMAO Podcast to continue, the members of IMAO had to evenly distribute these duties among themselves. Because the lovely and talented SarahK had the time and inclination, she volunteered to become the executive producer of IMAudiO. I now get to be a contributor to the IMAO Podcast rather than the one person that was constantly e-mailing people to finish recording their lines, making cross-country calls from Seattle to Florida to discuss ideas with Frank (which always seemed to be in the middle of watching Sarah's favorite TV show), and working every Sunday, staying up until 1 A.M. to finish encoding and posting the MP3 of the podcast so it would be ready for the fans when they woke up on Monday.

It should also be noted that one of those "full-time jobs" I mentioned was to promote the IMAO Podcast... apparently I will have to promote the fact that I am still featured in IMAO Podcast... And, just as Frank J. did when he was on RightWingNews and our own Laurence Simon does with his numerous side projects, I'm will promote my own side projects as well.

Hopefully this clears things up and please enjoy today's new IMAudiO produced by SarahK. This Wizard of Oz-themed episode is cleverly nicknamed "IMAOz"

Make sure to check out this week's Carnival of the Recipes, hosted by the fabulously culinary Dave of the Glittering Eye. mmm... pumpkin seed popcorn balls. This coming week, the Carnival will be an all-pork carnival. Go here to see why.

BRUCE CAMPBELL
(audio taken from his in-store appearance in Seattle)
Hi, this is Bruce Campbell and you're listening to Pure Idiom.

SFX OF AN UNEARTHLY HUM -- NATHAN HAMMERS AWAY AT HIS IMPOSSIBILITY ENGINE

NATHAN
That should do it. Just a little bit more...

MORE SFX OF BUILDING NOISES -- THE SOUND OF THE DOORBELL DISTRACTS NATHAN, CAUSING HIM TO DROP HIS TOOLS

NATHAN
(annoyed)
Dammit. Who is it?

SFX OF FOOTSTEPS AND DOOR OPENING

SCOTT
Hi, what's up, Nathan?

NATHAN
Oh, hi... Scott. Uh, what are you doing here?

SCOTT
Just wanted to drop by and ask your advice on something. You know that funny podcast we've been doing?

SFX OF DOOR OPENING WIDER -- FOOTSTEPS -- DOOR CLOSES

NATHAN
Uh, yeah. Pure Idiom has been fun to do but... You know, this is kind of a bad time. Could you maybe come back--?

SCOTT
See, the program director from the number one satellite radio provider just e-mailed me back about the demo CD I sent him of our podcast.

NATHAN
Really? That sounds like good news, Scott. Did he say he liked it?

SCOTT
I dunno. The e-mail just says: "Demo CD received. Call me." Hmmm. I-- I have a bad feeling about this.

NATHAN
Why? It sounds encouraging to me. It's like the program director for the top comedy channel is saying "Hey Scott, I got the CD of your podcast. Call me to talk about further opportunities in satellite radio."

SCOTT
Dude, you got all of that out of "CD Received Call Me?"

NATHAN
Well yeah. What did you get out of it?

SCOTT
I thought it sounded more like I was being called down to the principal's office...

SPOILER ALERTIf this script was a movie, the movie would receive a PG-13 rating from the MPAA for strong language. Do not read any more of this post if you are offended by language you'd hear in any PG-13 movie.

SCOTT (continued)
...That's why I wanted your advice. You're a writer and a musician and you traveled around the world a bit, so I figured you might have some advice on what I should do.

NATHAN
(sighs)
What you should do is should stop being such a chickenshit and call the guy back about our podcast demo.

SCOTT
Okay. Thanks Nathan. Mind if I use your phone? It's a long distance call.

SFX OF PICKING UP PHONE – DIAL TONE – DIALING A LONG NUMBER

NATHAN
(sighs)
Yes.

SFX OF PHONE RINGING THROUGH RECEIVER

SCOTT
Okay, it's ringing.

PROGRAM DIRECTOR
(Through phone receiver)
Hi, you've reached the program director for the number one satellite radio provider in the world. Leave me a voice mail and I'll return your call as soon as possible.

SCOTT
Oh, uh-- Hi, this is Scott… We did that podcast demo CD I overnighted you yesterd-- oh, and when I say "we" I mean "we" as in me and my buddy Nathan. He's standing right here next to me. I'm over at his place right now. Anyway about that demo CD spent to you… I mean the demo CD I "sent" to you… I spent a lot on overnighting it to you and I guess I had a Freudian slip there. Anyway--

NATHAN
What the hell are you doing?!

SCOTT
You told me to leave him a message so I'm leaving a message.

NATHAN
No you're not! You're rambling into the phone about current overnight shipping rates to a computer, you dumbass! Get a grip!

NATHAN
Scott, how long have you been coming over to my house to bother me?

SCOTT
I dunno. A while now--I guess ever since I first moved to this fine West Coast city. You're the only normal guy I've found in this radical lefty burg.

NATHAN
Okay, what I'm about to tell you might come as a shock to you.

SCOTT
Like one of those "holy shit" moments where you find out a truth so shocking that all rational thought escapes you and your only response is to shout "holy shit" over and over again?

NATHAN
Exactly. The truth is: I’m just finishing up the last few bits on my Impossibility Engine.

SCOTT
A what?

NATHAN
An Impossibility Engine. Here, take a look inside

SFX OF DOOR OPENING

NATHAN
I'll show you how it works. First you press this button here, and punch a series of numbers there, hit this yellow button, and then the engine warps the space-time continuum to instantly transport you anywhere and anytime in the universe. This machine makes the impossible possible.

SCOTT
That's hardcore, Nathan. Hey, can I use this to pick up chicks?

NATHAN
Um, I was thinking more along the lines of world peace, but I guess it could do something like that.

SCOTT
So, can we take it out for a spin?

NATHAN
Cool by me. Just enter through the door right here -- it’s a little cramped on the interior, but I built it to stretch over time.

NATHAN
That sounds really gay, but you've got a point: he'd claw the furniture to shreds the second we leave. You can come, Tink, but I warn you, if you get in the way, I’m jettisoning you out the hatch

SCOTT
Ooooh, I'm calling PETA.

NATHAN
Shut up and get serious for a minute. I have to concentrate on getting this thing moving.

SCOTT
Bitch-bitch-bitch...

NATHAN
It’s my Impossibility Engine, Now pay attention.

SFX OF CAT MEOWING INQUISITIVELY

NATHAN
No, not you, Tinkle – I was talking to Scott. Here's how you activate the Engine. Press that button and punch in a series of numbers.

SCOTT
What numbers?

NATHAN
Any numbers you want. The Impossibility Engine interprets the random numbers as coordinates from your subconscious, and then takes us wherever it is you most want to go.

SCOTT
Okay, subconscious. Time to throw down some chicks, fast cars and rock and roll!

SFX OF TYPING ON A KEYBOARD

NATHAN
Now hit that yellow button

SFX OF KLAXON

SCOTT
Wha--What does that do?

NATHAN
Nothing, it just amuses me. Here we go!

SFX OF CAT SCREECHING

SCOTT AND NATHAN YELL IN STEREO PANNING LEFT TO RIGHT
SFX OF WHOOSES CHIMES AND CLANKS UNDER YELL; WHEN YELL IS PANNED TO RIGHT, SFX OF LOUD CYMBAL CRASH, WHOOSH, AND THUD

SCOTT
What the hell was that?

NATHAN
That, my friend, was a ride in the Impossibility Engine.

SFX OF DOOR OPENING

SCOTT
Are you smokin' crack? We're still in your living room! I swear Nathan, I thought this was gonna be one of those "holy shit" moments and the ride in the Impossibility Engine was just a bunch of loud noises and bright lights! Hell, I could've gotten that same experience at any planetarium in America during the weekly Pink Floyd laser show!

CAT
Yeah, but you would've had to sit between two dreadlocked hippies reeking of pot and patchouli

SCOTT
True, but I would've heard all the-- hey, are you some kind of ventriloquist?

NATHAN
What do you mean?

SCOTT
Your lips didn't move when you made that pot-smoking hippie comment.

NATHAN
I didn't say that.

SCOTT
Oh, and I suppose your cat said it.

CAT
I did. And am I wrong about Pink Floyd laser shows attracting a disproportionate number of unwashed, pot-smoking hippies?

SCOTT
Holy shit!

NATHAN
Tinkerbell! You can talk?

SCOTT
Holy shit!

CAT
I’ve always been able to talk – you’ve just been too stupid to understand what I’ve been saying all these years.

CAT
Hey, let's not try to overanalyze it, Rocket Scientist. Just accept the fact that you now understand the glorious language of Feline.

SCOTT
Holy shit!

CAT
I suggest we fire up the Impossibility Engine again to alter his brain patterns to say something other than "holy shit."

SCOTT
No, I got it. I'm okay. It's just the shock of it all. Wow, the Tink talks. How the Impossibility Engine got a talking cat out of my subconscious, I’ll never know. I don’t even like cats.

CAT
The universe is cruel and shit happens. If I were you I wouldn't waste any money on lotto tickets.

NATHAN
Wow, Tinki-Winks a total smart ass. I like it!

CAT
Thanks. Let's fire up the Impossibility Engine again and see if we can actually go somewhere this time. I'd drive, but the last time I tried to signal the mothership on your Mac, you squirted me with a water bottle.

NATHAN
I'll drive.

SFX OF IMPOSSIBILITY ENGINE

CAT
We seem to have arrived.

SCOTT BABBLES INCOHERENTLY

CAT
Funny, but I think he almost started to make sense.

NATHAN
Tell me about it.

SCOTT
What a ride! I feel like I’ve been turned inside out and then worn like a jacket.

NATHAN
I’m so excited to find out where we are. Here goes...

SFX OF DOOR OPENING – HOWLING WIND AND LASHING RAIN

SCOTT
What the--?

CAT
Charming place to have landed… You sure you don’t want to drop by an exploding volcano afterwards?

NATHAN
(yelling)
I think we’ve landed in the middle of a Hurricane!

SFX OF A MAN SCREAMING AS HE’S CARRIED PAST IN THE WIND

SCOTT
Whoa, I think that was Shepard Smith.

SFX OF MULTIPLE SCREAMS FLYING PAST IN THE WIND

CAT
There goes his film crew. It looks like they’re gonna blow all the way to Aruba. Say hi to Natalee for us!

NATHAN
I think I’ve just landed us in the middle of Hurricane Katrina. Tinky – I think you need to step outside first and investigate.

CAT
Fuck that, you go first.

NATHAN
You are so never getting another bite of Tender Vittles.

CAT
Oh, punish me some more.

SCOTT
I'll go... Might as well dance in the jaws of the dragon one time, ya know what I'm sayin'?

CAT
Uh, no.

NATHAN
I never know what the hell you're saying.

SFX OF DOOR OPENING

SCOTT
Yeah! Check me out, boys!

SFX OF HOWLING WIND GETS LOUDER

SCOTT
'Cause here I am...

SFX OF HUGE WIND GUST

SCOTT
(voice trails off in the WIND GUST)
Rock you like a hurr-ee-caaaaaaaaane!

CAT
Damn, have you ever seen a human being tossed about like that?

NATHAN
No. It's like he's a little stuffed toy

SFX OF WIND GUST UNDER AS SCOTT MAKES NOISE LIKE THE SINGER FROM THE SCORPIONS' BIZARRE "SCAT" SINGING IN THEIR SONG ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE. SOUND PANS LEFT-TO-RIGHT

CAT
God, this makes me happy!

SFX OF METALLIC CLUNK AND WHIMPER FROM SCOTT

NATHAN
Ow! That's gotta hurt. We can't just sit here in and watch while he's tossed about like linguine at the Olive Garden.

CAT
I’m perfectly content with doing nothing and waiting for FEMA.

NATHAN
I can't stand it anymore. I'm going out after him!

CAT
Suit yourself.

SFX OF HUGE WIND GUST

CAT
Finally, the place to myself. Now, what buttons do I push to get the hell out of here?

SFX OF ENGINE WARM-UP – CLICKING OF BUTTONS -- KLAXON

NATHAN
Tinkie! Don’t you dare leave us to die here in this hurricane!

CAT
It’s not my fault that you didn’t catch the first bus out when the wind began to blow. Oh, wait, there were no buses out of the city, were there? Sucks to be you.

SCOTT
(yelling, from afar)
Hey, look – I found some love beads! Aaaaaah!

SFX OF HURRICANE – SCOTT AND NATHAN YELL AS THEY ARE WHIPPED AROUND IN THE WIND

I keep hearing from my readers, "Where is the funny?" "When are you going to write the funny?" "Why aren't you writing the funny now?" and so on. Well, I started an In My World™ this morning, but circumstances soon intervened. Things are interrupting me now as I try to write this short message.

Still, you have the other IMAO bloggers, the funniest people who aren't me, and soon you will have me back and setting the blogosphere on fire. Also, I'll finish up Superego soon since all your asinine theories of where it is going are starting to grate me (it may be schlock, but give me some credit). All that, and we're going to make a major effort at having IMAudiO being a weekly feature once again.

In the meantime... visit my advertisers! In the Patron spot is IMAO longest advertiser through BlogAds, so make sure to check out their stuff. Also, the popular U.N. logo shirt has just came out with a new printing where the main part is now on the back. I'll work on some new shirts soon. I have some ideas of my own, but can anyone think of what they would want (try to think of things that may appeal to people who haven't heard of IMAO)?

What is Pure Idiom? It's billed as "the iconoclastic interdimensional misadventures of two guys, a smart-alec talking cat, and their celebrity guests" on the website, and this week's special celebrity guest is B-movie actor and author Bruce Campbell.

[say this part really fast]
-you're obsessed wth crap for some reason I cannot say,
-and you really like cats in a kinda creepy way,
-and you're not a super observant son of Abraham,
-for instance you've told me before you've eaten ham

[catch your breath here]

Crap......py Birth....day..... TOOOO JEEEWWW!!!

And many more-a!
Hope You enjoy the Torah!
Sodom and Gomorrah!
Hope no bulls ever gore-ya!

If you thought that Columbus was a symbol of conquest and genocide to the Native Americans, well, think of what he did to the Jews.

That's right. Just in case you didn't know, his expeditions were funded with money stolen from Jews murdered in the Inquisition started by the paranoid and bloodthirsty Ferdinand, his vicious Castille whore Isabella, and their perverted Papal tool Torquemada.

The King of Unified Iberia wasn't content with just the Conquest of Grenada and the expulsion of the Moors from Europe, mind you. Nope. Not enough for Ferdinand, who saw more enemies than Richard Nixon in a house of mirrors. He just had to go ahead and vent his rage upon anybody who used a lunar calendar and passed on heaping helpings of pork.

So all that gold Columbus used to build his ships, hire men, provision his crews, and pay for his frilly hat... that's right: Jewish blood money.

When he came back, Ferdinand (spit!) and Isabella (rinse and spit!) had even more money for him to go back and eander around once again.

And do we Jews get credit? Do we get any props or attaboys for our involuntary investment in this Genoan tool's sailing around the Atlantic?

Heck no.

This is why on Columbus Day, the Children of Sepharad have the G-d given right to punch a Spaniard in the nose. But only full-blood Sephardi, of course. Half-bloods are permitted to slap them with an open hand, and those with minimal Sephardic blood are entitled to glare at them with hostility for no less than two minutes and no greater than five.

I keep hearing that maybe the conservatives are bashing Miers so much to get the Democrats to lower their guard. That means that all the pundits and bloggers have gotten their secret VWRC newsletter letting them to bash Miers for now so she can slip through confirmation. But I haven't been overly bashing Miers because I didn't get any sort of memo.

I'm a top 100 blog by most measures! I should get these memos!

Fine, then I'm going to like Harriet Miers.

Miers is great! Yay! I bet she'll vote coservative on all the issues and be the Democrats' worst nightmare! Hooray!

Right now, I'm in my office working on a Saturday afternoon, but, I just got a call from my brother, Sgt. Joe foo' the Marine, and he's now in North Carolina enjoying his first beer in over half a year.

A good friend of my brother, Lance Cpl. Joe Lowe, finally returned home to Boise yesterday after recovering enough from the injuries he received in Iraq that have left him paralyzed. My mother was there at the airport for it, and said it was a huge reception.

My brother is probably in Kuwait right now, should return to the states this weekend, and should hopefully get back to Boise with the rest of his Marine reserve unit on the fifteenth. Joe Lowe really wanted to be back home for that and got his wish.

I snatched my gun, pointed it at the intruder, and was halfway through the trigger pull when I remembered where I was.

I put the gun back down and told the stunned silent Diane, "Sorry, I'm not used to waking up with someone else in the room."

Diane seemed to recover her nerves. She was still fully-clothed and sitting on the blanket I gave her. "Apparently you trained for it, though."

"Were you talking when I woke up?"

"Diane and I have been communicating all night," Dip interjected, "She has been trying to convince me that the best way to serve you would be to betray and do what she tells me. She's probably right, but the idea is too much in violation of my programming."

Diane smiled weakly. "Can't blame a girl for trying."

"I still don't understand what you expect to do by fighting against me, Diane. The violence is coming, and not even I can stop that now."

"So why be another lamb for the slaughter?"

I stood up from the bed, grabbing the holster for my two main guns. "Do I look like a lamb?"

She stood up too. "Sometimes."

I laughed. "What is your deal, Blondie? I was hoping over the night you'd come to embrace the idea of the crime syndicates getting caught in a huge slaughter. I've seen your disdain for your people's own bureaucratic rules in your detective work, and you know all of this is beyond you silly little police force."

"It's true, I will skirt the rules when lives are at stake, but our system is all we have to keep us from being some version of your criminal chaos." She grabbed my arm and stared me in the eyes. "Rico, in weaker moments, I want nothing more than to stand at your side and blow away the scum of the universe, but I know that won't accomplish anything. As many criminals as we kill, more will rise to take their place. The only way we can defeat the powerful, criminal groups out there is to make an even more powerful group of the honest people - a Galactic Alliance covering as many as possible and freed from corruption. As much as you want this coming slaughter, it is nothing more than one man's vengeance... vengeance for things you probably can't even put into words."

What did she expect from me? Gee, Diane, you're right! I'm going to work towards non-violence from now on and love Jesus and make macaroni paintings! I pushed Diane away and smiled. "Whatever the reasons for this coming massacre, it's gonna be a hoot."

"It can be stopped."

I walked away from her. "Not by you."

"Do you really want this, Rico?"

"It will be my Christmas."

Diane was silent for a moment. "Are you going to take your pills for good luck beforehand?"

She was reaching now. I walked over to my jacket and took out the old bottle of pills. "I don't think so."

"What do they do?"

"Not sure; never taken one."

"Why not?"

"Well, if I run out, I can't get a refill since I killed who prescribed them." I laughed. "He was so surprised when I stabbed him, and he was the one who first called me a 'psychopath.'"

Diane just stared at me. I guess she wanted more information. Fine.

"Some with the syndicate have always been worried about my stability. They made me see a psychiatrist. He prescribed me some drugs that would supposedly make me more susceptible to normal human emotions. My thoughts were what worth was all that if it could be made by a couple of pills."

"You were scared to take them."

Too smart for her own good again. "Yes, Diane. If I gave you a pill and said that taking it would change who you are, wouldn't you be scared? If you destroy your current self, that's like suicide. And I am not desperate enough for suicide." I smiled. "I prefer homicide. Anyway, it became apparent that the good doctor was going to force me to get 'better,' so I killed him and a few others and got out of there."

"Weren't there some repercussion from the Corlonis for that?"

"No, they wisely realized that was their mistake that time. There going to realize they're handling of me this time was a mistake, too, but I'm going to have to spell it out for them."

"So why do you keep the pills with you?"

I didn't know, but I wasn't going to tell her that. I tossed her the bottle. "There, now they're yours. Be careful, they may cause nausea... and they're probably expired. I don't know if we'll ever see each other again after this, so consider it a souvenir. Now, I have to get ready for today's festivities."

"I'm wearing boxers." I then chuckled. "Oh yeah, I forgot you're a prude." I flexed my muscles. "So, was I what you expected?"

"I honestly thought you'd have more scars."

"Well, I'm a quicker learn than most. I'm going to take a shower now; if you want one, you'll have to take it with me so you can be supervised to make sure you don't try anything."

She just scowled at me.

I smiled. "Can't blame a guy for trying. Diane, you sit back in the corner. Dip, you tell me if she moves so I can come out and kill her."

"Certainly, Rico."

I took a quick shower, my guns hanging next to me. A human being can smell quite foul if not cleaned everyday; it probably was some natural defense way back when. Humans might have actually made an interesting subject for a nature show before technology defined their existence.

After the shower, I found Diane was playing twenty-questions with Dip. Apparently, she had calmed down. I set my guns down on the nightstand and began to put my pants on. There was then a sudden movement towards me ending it a strong blow to the side of my head, knocking me to the ground.

"She moved," Dip said in my ear.

Attacking a man with his pants half on - that was low. I tried to roll out of the way as I fully pulled up my pants, but I caught another blow to my side.

It was now clear I should have killed Diane last night; she was not going to see reason. Well, now it was decided for certain: it was time for us to end our relationship.

If you're not sure how this absurd scene pertains to IMAO, since IMAO is famous for that "political humor" thing, it doesn't. If you must have some semblance of politics or humor in everything you read here, just assume that Frisky is... um...

Help me out here. Make your suggestions in the comments how this scene is, in fact, a political allegory.

* Chuck him in the river. It's highly economical. Just do it the middle of the night and leave a note in the glass case saying, "Lenin was here."

* Russia is always in need of cash, so sell him on eBay.

* If there's something I don't have a need for anymore, I like firing it out of a cannon. If they aim the cannon at a wall, he'll go all splat and people will be like, "Yay!"

* I also like blowing things up. He could have explosives planted inside him, be suspended in the air, and then blown up surrounded by a crowd. Then everyone will scramble to get their own piece of Lenin.

* Instead of a boring display, why not tie strings to Lenin limbs and have him do a marionette show once a day called the "Old Time Commie Puppet Theater." He could dance and sing songs about a dictatorship of the proletariat.

Without going into the grim and gory details, nor the wailing and gnashing of teeth, the podcast that was to finally arrive tomorrow was murdered this evening. This is my first go as editor/producer/sound effectser/director, so to say there are growing pains is an understatement. Did I mention the gnashing of teeth? I have to start the editing from scratch (again, that is), and I'm doing that now. Chance of it arriving tomorrow is 0.36%. Sorry.

I'm not Catholic, but I married one, so I guess I'm a Caholic-in-law. My oldest son is a 2nd grader at the local Catholic school. That should be sufficient background to set up the following conversation.

Son: Hey Dad, I get to do the reading at Friday's Mass.
Me: Great son, why don't you read it to me for practice.
Son: I already have it memorized.
Me: Let’s hear it.
Son: A reading from the book of Tobit...
Son: Dad, why are you laughing?
Son: Mom, why is Dad laughing at me?
Mom: Yeah, Dad, why are you laughing at him.

I thought you made that up!

Darn you Frank J.

(Not bad, 11 months later your post still makes me
laugh.)

I had forgotten all about those (and have never personally heard anyone ever quote the actual Book of Tobit). Here they are (potential blasphemy warning on all but number three):

Unless, of course, Tammy rains the game out. Leave it to UN-loving Ted Turner to spend hundreds of millions of other people's dollars and rake in trunkloads of tax breaks just to build an open-air stadium, eh.

Anyway, Roger's got the best ERA in the league even if his win-loss record doesn't reflect his amazing performance this year. For some reason, run support vanishes when he plays, the middle-relief crumbles, and errors pile up like cars on a freeway fleeing a hurricane.

I have this game called Who Screwed Roger Clemens Bingo where I post up a Bingo card:

And then you can track who screws Roger Clemens with lousy play or failing to come through in the clutch.

The center square is a free square. If you get five in a row, Frank J. will kill a monkey in your honor.

Sooner or later, a bunch of smelly hippies will come to your town and try protesting the War, and - also sooner or later - you'll get sick of their mindless sloganeering and decide to take to the streets yourself to protest their protest.

No such thing as too much free speech, ya know.

But you shouldn't go empty-handed. Bring a ClueBat.

This item is useful for "beating sense" into someone whose knowledge of "what's what" ain't quite up to where it ought to be. A versatile device, it comes in several sizes, so be sure to choose the right tool for the right job.

Small

For RINO's like John McCain or Colin Powell, and also as a preventative measure for small children who just don't know any better because they attended a public school.

Large

For politicians who just don't know when to stop talking, like John Kerry, Ted Kennedy, Nancy Pelosi, or anyone in the UN Building (except the Stachemeister, of course).

Extra Pointy

For those with exceptionally thick skulls - Alec Baldwin, Tim Robbins, most hippies.

STFU ALREADY!

For extreme cases - Michael Moore, Cindy Sheehan, Jane Fonda.

And don't forget to read the instruction manual before use:

"Fat end first, dumbass!"

Yes, with these handy tips, you'll soon be doing your part as an American citizen to create a more informed electorate.

I've heard the Earth (the planet where the O'Reilly Factor studio is located) continues to spin completely unabated during O'Reilly's so-called 'No Spin Zone.' O'Reilly isn't tellng us the truth. Liar! I do believe I've noticed a distinct swivel in that chair of his too. Double Liar!!

Since she's still the main political topic, it seems like I should write another humor piece about Harriet Miers. Only thing, I don't know if I can top the joke of her being nominated in the first place.

As SarahK pointed out, Bill O'Reilly is scared of bloggers. This goes back quite a bit, as in June '03 Instapundit observed an O'Reilly "hissy fit" against blogs and said, "I'll bet nobody has accused O'Reilly of putting puppies in blenders."

And that's the problem. See, I like Bill O'Reilly, and I think it's time for someone to accuse him of "putting puppies in blenders" so that bloggers really are out to get him and he doesn't seem so paranoid.

That means its time for an organized smear campaign!

All we need is some great lie about O'Reilly (I dunno, maybe that he was originally a woman or that he kills stray cats with a hammer or that he's considered a genius in France). Then we come up with a news clip about said lie. Then tons of bloggers all quote the news clip (linking to another blogger who wrote about it as the source) and comment on how horrible Bill O'Reilly is. If it's set up right, each blogger will say they saw it off of a different blogger, and, if someone keeps clicking on the links trying to find the source, he'll go in a complete circle and end back where he started.

Then, we just have to hope more bloggers pick up on it who aren't in on the joke and have people without blogs e-mail O'Reilly about how horrible he is for doing whatever it is we lie about him doing.

Yeah, I don't have the time to organize something like this, but wouldn't it be cool? I'm sure we'd win "Most Organized Smear Campaign" at the Smeary Awards if we pulled it off.

Well, Sukkot begins at Sundown on October 17, 2005. I'm supposed to build this Sukkah thing, which is a booth with two-and-a-half walls. Then, I'm supposed to dwell in it.

Since I'm no longer allowed to build a Sukkah out of couch cushions after the Spilled Grape Juice Incident, I'm pitching a tent on the patio and throwing leaves on top. Or maybe I'll just hide under the patio table with chairs as walls, possibly a trash bag or two draped over the side.

We don't have the patio table umbrella yet. The old one got ruined by the dismantling process during Rita, so I ordered a new one. I think the patio umbrella folks are in cahoots with the weather people. Kickbacks and such. Corrupt jerks.

Anyway, I know it's not supposed to be waterproof and there's supposed to be corn and squash and other vegetables hanging from it, but I figure grilling some peppers next to the tent will be a near enough pitch.

There's also supposed to be four dried herbs and plants as part of the ritual. Well, I've got plenty of dead pepper plants, so those will have to do. I spend all that time and effort i nthe spring to come up with lots of dead plants by October. At least I'm consistent.

Don't think of these changes to the ritual as perverting and wimping out from tradition. I'm assimilated, darn it.

We hope to have it finished before tomorrow. We've had a lot of challenges with this IMAudiO, including producer change (to me, which is gonna not be nearly as good as Scott producing it), hurricanes, birthing of babies, cast member dropping out, and other things. I'm sure that somehow it's all Frank's fault. :-)

Look for it tomorrow. If it's not here, look for it Friday. Don't look for it Saturday, unless you lose it from earlier in the week.

he really does. he's hated us ever since the elections when he first heard of a blog. ever since one or two blogs said ugly things about him, he's thought the majority of us to be vicious slandering monsters.

last night after O'Reilly's discussion of the world's slimiest blogs, i called up my good friend Bill and asked him a few questions.

BILL: are you going to blog this?
SARAHK: of course not, Bill! i'm just being inquisitive, because it's better to listen to a friend than talk to one.
BILL: good, i hate blogs and bloggers. they're just below pondscum on my filth scale.
SARAHK: so... scraping the bottom of the barrel tonight, huh?
BILL: hmm? oh, you mean those two last men on the planet that i interviewed about sleazy, slimy blogs? i hope they don't know they were not my first choices.
SARAHK: well, i think you told them. said something about trying to get 4,000 different politicians on to talk about blogs, but they wouldn't because they were scared of us. 'but you guys, you guys were not chicken. good thing, too, as you are the last men on the planet i could have asked.'
BILL: i said that? hmm. i should lay off the drugs.
SARAHK: so. do you want to tell me more about these drugs?
BILL: i take at least 4 advil a day, and it really messes with my mind.
SARAHK: thanks for your time, Bill. oh, one more question, and please speak very clearly into the phone.
BILL: sure, SarahK.
SARAHK: do you like blogs?
BILL: i spit on them!

The downtown still had many sentient diversity events going on, most of which were displays of the heavily abridged, whitewashed cultures of different alien species. I was sort of curious what was put out to represent humans, but the ways of sentients always seemed less interesting to me than that of lower creatures. Every time I learned about a new animal there was something surprising and interesting to find out about how it adapted to and survived in its environment. With sentients, the stories were all just variations of the same theme. It's like with each planet, there is tons of variety... until an intelligent species emerges. Then nature is stuck in a rut, and the species goes through about the same technological and social developments as all the other sentients. Yes, there could be some interesting parts to their development, but these displays left out all the wars and the genocide. Instead, they focused on the cultural quirks they figured other sentients would find cutesy.

"Isn't this great!" exclaimed a female something or other as she turned to look from the displays to talk to me for some reason. "So many different beings from so many different planets, but here we all come together for a united purpose. It really gives me hope we can set aside are differences to stop the criminal regimes out there. I hear the Galactic Senator is going to speak on that very topic. Did you hear how he moved his speech to tomorrow morning?"

"Yep."

"The good people out there may feel overwhelmed sometimes," Diane said with a slight smile to the alien, "but, with all species, I have faith there are more good than evil in each population. We will come together and fight back those who do nothing but spread misery."

"And you also believe your savior is going to eventually come back and send most everyone to hell, right, Diane?" I chuckled.

Diane frowned at me. The alien looked confused, probably thinking her translator messed up. "Though we all bleed different colors," I told the alien with faked gravitas, "we all splatter about the same. That's knowledge I take strength from."

She looked confused again, but Diane just grabbed me and pulled me along. "I would think someone with no feelings would not take pleasure out of cruelty," she told me.

"I guess I'm full of surprises. Now, it's getting late, and, as you may know, there are important festivities tomorrow. Thus, I need some place to sleep."

Diane led me to a hotel not too far from the convention center. Luckily, they had a vacancy, and I got a room for one night for the "Smiths."

"Rico, so what are the sleeping plans?" I could see a little worry on her face.

"You can sleep on the floor," I said as I found our room and entered it.

She set down her bag of weapons. "Usually, the gentleman offers the lady the bed."

"I'm fully aware of the customs to follow if I want to pretend to be a gentleman," I said as I undressed, "Right now, I need some good sleep. Your time is probably better spent figuring how to best evacuate civilians from the area. I prefer them not in the way, but I don't have time to worry about that right now."

"To be clear, am I a hostage?" Diane inquired with annoyance.

I set a little camera device on a table and pointed it at Diane. "Dip, watch Diane for me. Wake me up if she tries anything so I can kill her."

"Rico, we need to talk," Diane told me firmly.

I tossed a blanket to her. "No, we don't. Lot's of bad people are going to die tomorrow. If you help me, we can keep it just to the bad people. Consider it God's wrath."

"Except it's not God's wrath," she shot back, "It's Rico's tantrum."

"I don't have time for a silly lecture now," I said as I lay on the bed and pulled out a computer. Dip had the battle plans for me to scan before I sent them on to Gredler, "You are interesting at times, Diane, but, in the end, I have nothing but contempt for your ideals. You have your idiot religion that tries to preach both love and hellfire, and you don't even follow it. Would Jesus have smacked up those Muslims like you did?"

"I've always had trouble matching some things I have to do in my job with my moral beliefs," Diane said quite seriously, "I've even thought of quitting over it. But, the job has to be done, and it would be cowardice to run from it to ease my own mind. I certainly don't need you lecturing me on right and wrong."

I laughed. "We all have our justification for our actions to let us sleep at night... except for me, of course. I always sleep like a baby no matter what I do." I finalized the plans and sent them to Gredler.

"Rico, you think you have no choice to but to travel down the path you have laid out, but nothing binds you to it," she pleaded with me, "I know there is something more to this you aren't telling me, but nothing justifies this slaughter. Nothing means you have to throw your life away in this action. Together we can..."

I picked up my gun and pointed it at her. "Yes, there is something I am not telling you... because it's my business. You were also right when you said before that I don't seem to be the type to bluff. With that in mind, I really need to get some sleep now. As I get ready in the morning, I can have a pointless philosophical discussion with you. But, if you bother me again before the sun rises, I will kill you."

She stared back at me, and I kept my finger tense over the trigger.

Come on, say something, Diane. Let's simplify things now.

She lay down on the floor and turned away from me. I still held the gun on her. I had this feeling I was going to have to eventually kill her anyway, and I might as well save the headache and do it now.

First Update: RWD would like to introduce the latest addition to the Duck family.

Presenting....

RWDuckling.

Baby duck was born 8 pounds six ounces on September 30th. Momma is doing fine, daddy is getting used to a little less sleep each night. He sleeps most of the day and wakes up demanding to be fed. It's like having our own little union worker.

Second Update:

Sadly, the hospital bills drained the RWD new computer fund. So, no brilliant satirical funny until I can replace El Broko Computer-o (That's Spanglish for Fist in the Screen). I'm holding a mini-fundraister. If you miss your daily dose of Ducky funny, please paypal your contribution to the Ducky Computer Fund at rightwingduckatyahoodotcom. I don't want a fancy one - just one that can get me online and writing again.

Otherwise, I'll be lurking in the background screaming my jokes at the computer screen.

"I can't get through on my cellphone. The tall buildings are giving me no bars! The bystanders are going to be killed!"

Rico replied, "That's too bad", sucks to be an innocent bystander today. "Aren't you going to stop? Gimme that phone!"

Diane was about to miss a red light

"Huh? No, leggo. Stop? Rico, I can't stop, not while there's innoc-"

Diane then missed the red light.

They were struck by a large truck carrying mega large waffles. One of the enormous waffles, carried by inertia, flew out through the top of the truck, flipped twice in air and landed square on Diane's car.

Diane and Rico were crushed and killed instantly, flat as pancakes.

*****Epilogue

Rico's ship and Dip were converted into an enormous toaster, that could fly.

They say a prosecutor could indict a ham sandwich if he wanted to, but indict it twice? Maybe a turkey sandwich, but not a ham sandwich.

Now that there is a second indictment of Tom Delay (with a real charge - money laundering!) we can only assume he's guilty. It's time for Delay to prepare for a shootout with police - his only chance to gain back some respect from fellow Republicans.

BTW, if a ham sandwich was suspected to be lunch for someone who was money laundering, would that be enough to indict it for conspiracy to launder money? It's not that there's a ham sandwich I want indicted; I'm just curious.

It seems like everyone is apoplectic about Bush's new Supreme Court nomination, but I didn't spend three hours in line to early vote in 2004 and then stay up all night live-blogging the election returns just to turn on Bush now. I think we should all give Bush the benefit of the doubt (again) and each say something nice about Harriet Miers. I'll start:

* She seems to have excellent posture.

* "Harriet" sounds like "Harrier Jet," and Harrier jets are cool.

* If her pick is cronyism, then it further proves that Bush has a wide variety of cronies in the areas of gender and race.

So, now that Florida's new gun law has come into effect, the Brady Bunch have launched a scare campaign against tourists (yes, the NYTimes had the most balanced article on the subject of those I surveyed). Basically, pamphlets are being handed out in airports that warn people not to get in arguments with locals because they may be shot (could be true if you go to a Cuban area and start arguing how great Castro is... but that was the case before the new law).

What's funny to me is that the Brady Bunch are also putting ads warning people about Florida in major newspapers for Detroit, Chicago, Boston and London. Riddle me this: If you live in Detroit, Chicago, Boston, or London (where gun ownership is completely banned - except, of course, for the many criminals there), are you more likely to be shot locally or on a vacation to Florida?

I hope people aren't dumb enough to fall for this, but, if they are, people are going to stay home and get shot in their crime-ridden cities... and it will all be the fault of the Brady Campaign.

(Actually, looking into it, the only one I can't confirm has a higher murder rate than Florida is London where statistics are hard to come by – Detroit seems to be worst of the lot by far with over 41 murders per 100,000 compared to 5.6 murders for the national average which Florida is in line with)

I wanted to have a discussion of the movie Serenity. There will be major spoilers, so don't click "More" unless you've seen the movie already. BTW, the first week's box office draw was a little disappointing, but Firefly awareness must be up considering that the DVD set of the series is ranked number 2 in DVD sales right now.

Yeah, Book is a big loss too, but his addition to the series (and the movie) was more subtle. He leaves a big hole, but the death of Wash is more devastating because he was comic relief. You don't kill comic relief. Plus, it happened at a time when there was too much going on to reflect about it.

It certainly had a huge effect to the drama, though; I really thought they were all going to be killed off when each of the crew started to become injured during the Reaver fight. I probably would not have thought that if they hadn't already so devastatingly killed off Wash.

Still, it's hard to imagine more Firefly without him... and where will Mal get more moral guidance without Book (or for that matter, Jayne - "As the Shepherd once told me: If you can't do something smart, do something right.")? Also, what do you think was Book's past?

Apparently, both Ron Glass and Alan Tudyk are signed on for two more pictures (if they get made, that is) along with the other seven actors who play the crew members, though.

And what does happen now? Who thinks the Operative fell on his sword? He looked more dressed for traveling. Personally, I thought that was a satisfying ending with him, but I think some will disagree. It actually forms an interesting arc if you go back to the beginning of the series. Mal lost his faith at the Battle of Serenity Valley, and the he regains it as he destroys the beliefs of another.

Anyway, what are everyone else's thoughts and ideas on the movie and perhaps sequels? Is there anything that is still a question in your mind?

Also, what is your favorite line from the movie? A lot of people seem to like two different ones from Kaylee, but for me, (aside from the "I aim to misbehave," line that I already have been using), my favorite is this exchange:

10. Unless you're first, who knows what the heck has been dipped in that honey.
9. I keep trying to read the Torah from left to right.
8. I can never spell it right, nor can I spell it wrong consistently.
7. Why did I hit the ATM before Tashlikh?
6. Ever have the A/C go out at synagogue on Rosh Hashana? Kinda makes that "no work" think suck all that much more.
5. "God's sovereignty" may bless you for the year, but it won't get you out of a speeding ticket.
4. Ever search for a good shevarim, teruah, and tekiah gedolah on Napster? Bet you can't.
3. Same prank every year: invisible ink in the Book Of Life.
2. Some years, the only thing that ever gets blown is the shofar.

"And I don't trust you, Gredler, but I just want a little revenge, a little money, and then we won't ever see each other again. Anyway, I have some important information for you: Corloni aren't waiting; they're coming for you tomorrow."

"Are you certain of this?"

"Yes. We were just assaulted by the Corloni girl scout troop, but are okay. Corloni should be right now moving enough people that you should be able to detect it."

"So, Rico, what do you recommend?"

"Move your speech to tomorrow morning; you have enough pull to do it. Just say something came up so you can't stay the extra day."

"Why would I do that?"

"So we can choose the battlefield. It's better in the city so we can hide more Randatti who I assume have already come as backup. Just send my associate Dip all the information you have on the convention center and I'll have the battle plan back for you soon. I know exactly how they'll come at you and how to fight back in kind. You'll have plenty of time to review my plan before the fight begins."

"I am seeing less and less reason to be here at all."

"Running is going to make the Randatti look weak, and they aren't going to like that. You do what I tell you, and we will hit the Corloni hard and you'll get a lot of the credit. As for yourself, have an escape plan, but know that I'm going to be standing between you and them... and you know how dangerous I am."

There was some silence. "All right, Rico. I'll send you the information you need and announce the change of time of my speech. Let's see if you can deliver."

"I never fail." The day I fail is the day I die.

He hung up and I confirmed that Dip was getting the information on the convention center. "By the way," Dip told me, "I've noticed some glitches in defenses at the capital city. As you mentioned to Gredler, I suspect this has to do with movement of the syndicates’ people - both Corloni and Randatti. This change in city defenses could mean a better chance of direct extraction."

"Keep an eye on it... and let me review the battle plans before you send them to Gredler." I looked to Diane. She appeared angry about something (well, she had plenty to be angry about, but so far seemed to take most of it in stride).

"If you kept the attack at the villa, it would be away from civilians," she told me.

"My plans revolve around the convention center; civilians are your concern, not mine."

"And how am I a supposed to get everyone out of the city before you turn it into a war zone tomorrow morning?"

"You're smart; you'll figure it out." She just scowled. I was wondering if I had to worry about a mutiny. "Do you know why you're helping me right now, Diane?"

"Please tell me, Rico," she answered with annoyance.

"Because deep down you know your one world police force is no match for what's coming, and at least sticking with me you feel you might have some control over the events. What I wonder is if you have it in your pretty little head that you might somehow stop this slaughter entirely. If you can't give up that fantasy by tomorrow morning, you're not going to be able to save any lives..." It was time for my well-rehearsed threatening face. "Not even your own."

She just kept scowling, but turned her attention to driving the car. Soon I could see where she was taking me: right into downtown near where the sentient diversity conference was being held. The area was pretty at night with all the lights. I decided to enjoy the view, as it was the last night it would be there.

Well, so far no one seems to like Bush's new pick for the Supreme Court, Harriet Miers. I even went to DU trying to hope they picked up on something conservative she said to shake their tiny fists about in impotent rage, but all they were able to come up with was "cronyism." Well, since Miers was not a judge and doesn't have a record to go by, I had my crack research staff look up what they could that might indicate the kind of judge Harriet Miers will be. Most of it is quite disheartening, though.

Already hurting from losses of tourism in the wake of terrorism threats and hurricanes, Florida has hurt its job market even further by making the occupation of criminality much tougher. By a new law that just came into effect on October 1st, citizens are now able to meet force with force and also can presume that anyone breaking into his or her house is meaning to do harm. Originally, if someone threw a punch at a Floridian, the attacked was obligated by law to run away like a little pansy. Now, with the new law in affect, someone who is punched can strike back with his or her full mastery of kung fu. If an attacker draws a knife, a Floridian can now draw a gun in response (rock beats scissors).

Also before the law, if someone broke into a house, the homeowner had to determine the criminal was meaning to do harm and not just robbing before being legally able to even point a gun at the criminal. Now, for any intruder into a home, it's duck season. Doesn't even matter if he's waving his hands in the air yelling, "Don't shoot!"

"With these laws, breaking into homes is no longer an option because of the safety risk," said a local criminal before I shot him to death for appearing threatening.

"Things just keep getting harder for us," said another career criminal whom I also shot before I got his name, "Robbing people in their work parking lot has always been safe for us, but now that could go away too."

Local Floridian Frank J. was more enthusiastic about the law. "Not being able to keep a gun in my car sucks," he said, "I used to have an office right near a gun range, and I would have been able to stop there after work if I only was allowed by my employer to keep guns in my car. Yeah, I know the libertarian angle that businesses should be able to pass any rules they want about their own property, but I'm a Republican, not a Libertarian, and I want my gun!" Frank J. then shook his fist to emphasize his anger at not having his gun.

"Shooting criminals is fun! Yay!" added SarahK, also a Florida resident, before yelling angrily at Frank J. for something he apparently did wrong but was unaware of.

I just want to say something for the official IMAO record. What is it I want to say?

Well, I'll tell you. I want to say I think Judge John Roberts will NOT be confirmed as chief justice of the supreme court.

I mean, you know, again. Once is plenty.

Did anybody cry this go-around?

Update: Bush nominated a female woman lady never-has been-a-judge to replace the female woman lady, used-to-be-a-judge, that's retiring. For the Record: I like chicks (namely my wife), but I don't think she'll be confirmed as Cheif Justice, unless she can defeat John Roberts in hand-to-hand combat as prescribed by the constitution. Given the differences in their ages and Roberts' obvious armspan advantage, I don't see it happening.

The weekend estimates are in, and Serenity came in second with only about 10 million gross (of which I contributed to Saturday). Maybe it won't have a large drop off next weekend because of word of mouth though (it's rating is doing great on IMDB). Anyway, tomorrow I'm going to have a spoilers discussion of the film along with my regular posting.